Category Archives: New York Stuff

Kind of a sad Thanksgiving this year. We just found out that some of our best friends are moving, and soon. This is a fairly regular occurrence for people in our social circle, and Corinne and I are used to it by now, but it doesn’t get any easier. I think we’re on our fifth generation of New York friends, and now they’re starting to leave, too.

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I swear, every single time I take a redeye flight home from the west, I tell myself it’s the last time. Even under the best of conditions, I usually hate flying, and I can’t sleep on planes, so redeye flights tend to result in 40-hour stretches without sleep. And if I’m taking a redeye, it’s usually so I can be at work the next day. I’m fine and functional once I get in my daily rhythm, but the mornings are awful.

Anyway, this isn’t a whiny post. The skies were clear this morning when my plane flew over Manhattan, and the view was amazing. The sun was up just enough to light the city, but the street lights were still on, so the whole city kind of shimmered. Even New Jersey was pretty (but only because I was too high up to smell it). I thought about taking a picture, but it wouldn’t do it justice.

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My last NYC-real-estate rant is here. It’s a much better read.

Corinne and I moved last week (we brought the baby along too). Not a huge change, we just moved 4 blocks north to get a bit more space and some other apartmental niceties. Our neighborhood in the Upper West Side is great, and we love it up here, but at the same time, it’s a bit bizarre. We moved 4 blocks and feel like we’re in a totally different neighborhood. This whole section of town in the nineties and low 100s is like that–every block is different. You can have the quietest, quaintest little side street, and then you turn the corner and you’re in the middle of a housing project with mounted police cameras on the street lights. And then you walk one more block and you’re at the fromagerie counter at Whole Foods.

Our neighbors who’ve lived in the neighborhood more than a couple years have seen big changes. Less bodegas, more Bank of Americas. We’ve even got a Michael’s craft supply store now. The word for this change is known to all New Yorkers, but I hadn’t heard it until I moved here: Gentrification. It’s what happens to a neighborhood when middle class and professional people move in, rents go up, Starbucks flourishes, and apartments get renovated.

I’ve lived in suburbs in four different states, and never saw gentrification until I moved to New York. In California, small towns become big towns, and the older neighborhoods get crustier, home values fall, and it’s tough if not impossible to reverse that trend. Continue reading →

Some dude punched a bus driver 5 years ago, so I had to miss a week of work to sit on a jury and figure out if he actually did punch the bus driver. He pleaded not guilty, but the bus driver testified that the dude punched him and showed us a couple doctor’s notes verifying a facial injury. There were no witnesses to the smackdown as it was four in the morning. The defendant didn’t testify, and the defendant’s lawyers didn’t do anything during cross examination of the bus driver to indicate that some other scenario might have happened. So it was the bus driver’s word against…well…nothing. So…uh…guilty?

The question mark is because the moron defense was only rivaled by the moron prosecution; which, despite a completely open-and-shut case, and despite trotting five cops and MTA workers up and asking them about their occupation, education, number of children, and whether they prefer “Who’s the Boss” or “Family Ties,” never fully explained to us the charges of 2nd Degree Assault and whether punching a bus driver meets the criteria. So we go into the jury room and try to literally figure out if we missed something–because the case seems so simple, and the lawyers couldn’t be THAT inept, could they? In fact, it seemed so easy that it took the jury a while to figure out our verdict.

The only thing the jury agreed on right off the bat was that if either lawyer had been at all competent, we would’ve reached a verdict in two seconds, and it could have just as easily been “Not Guilty” if the defense had even tried to cast a reasonable doubt on the event. Instead, their argument was that the defendant didn’t “punch” the driver, he hit him with the back of his open hand. (Apparently the defense was trying to convince us that you can backhand a bus driver, just not punch one. Great defense.)

Oh, also, all this fuss over some dude punching some other dude 5 years ago. And the case has been to trial twice before already. That means 42 jurors have lost work days, and a judge, 4 lawyers, a bailiff, four court cops, a court reporter, and a court clerk have all been paid to sit on this case thrice (though I’m sure the staff was different for each version of the case). Your tax dollars at work, people.

I saw some kid totally run over a lady today as he sprinted to catch the Shuttle from Grand Central to Times Square. THE SHUTTLE. The one that comes and goes every 4 seconds! Every morning and night I see crazy dummies running for this train like it’s the last elven ship to leave the Grey Havens for the Western Realms (believe it or not, Corinne came up with that LOTR simile).

For those that aren’t familiar with the NY subway system, the S shuttle runs from Grand Central to Times Square. The trip takes about two minutes, and there are three trains, and during rush hour, they come and go every minute or so. Hypothetically, if the S train stopped running, you could walk its entire route in about 10 minutes.

And yet people run to catch these trains.

The Monson family is divided on the subject of running in public. Corinne’s thinking is that it’s NEVER ok to run in public except for exercise. Don’t compromise your dignity to catch that bus or to avoid waiting for the next train. Better to just be late to the job interview.

I’m a little more lax in my rules, probably because I’m usually running late (no pun intended). I allow myself to quickly jog to catch any bus, or the NRQW, L, and BDFV train lines. You miss an R train, and you could be waiting a long time for the next one. So go on and jog.

Sprinting–of the sort that occurs on the S platform–is acceptible only when a taxi is about to strike you dead or you’re being chased by fast zombies.