US here we come

We left NYC for San Francisco on Monday 19th May. Here are some notes about our final weekend in Manhattan.

Saturday 17th:

Early morning. Took clothes to laundry on 10th Avenue. They charge by the pound – 12 lb cost $12. Good value.

Joey keen to go to a flea market to search for bargan second-hand rap CDs. We catch a taxi to the Chelsea/Gramercy area. On the way we notice a huge street party near us, on 9th Avenue, which has street stalls but still decide to go downtown. We find an Op-Shop and then a garage sale – a vast underground flea market with a wonderful variety of old stuff – collectables, antiques – all at great prices. It was very exciting to stumbvle upon it but, unfortunately, Joey and Hannah were both feeling alienated and Joan and I were under pressure to move on. I can’t believe this but I actually didn’t buy anything!!! We then found a flea market next to a church – this is where Joan found a stall selling ‘genuine’ mink.

We walked to Madison Square Park and saw a street procession of ethnic dancers – it went for miles, along Broadway. Hannah was very tired – gee, she’s done well for a 12 year old – and so we took her back to the hotel on W42nd and then headed off – just Joan, Joey and me – to Harlem by subway. Joan and I have already posted on this memorable experience. We gaain walked and walked for many miles to Central Park West, the extension of 8th Avenue. Joey is an excellent walker – he trucks long with his PDA earphones – but Joan and I were feeling zonked so we returned to midtown by subway.

After all that walking, I don’t know how joan and I managed to revive and head off – at 9.30 that night – for the famous Blue Note jazz club in the Village. The sky was remarkably clear and the moon shone upon us. We had stamina through exhilaration. The act – saxophonist Gato Barbieri – was good – a type of Latin Charlie Parker – but not great. After the gig, Joan and I walked 38 blocks back to W42nd Street. We went through some seddy areas but felt safe the whole time. We were back at our room at 1.30 Sunday morning. Joey nad Hannah were fast asleep in their respective beds. It was great to see so many people out on the streets of Manhattan so late at night – mostly young folk celebrating their youthfulness!

Sorry I must sign off for now – still having to use hotel internet (50 cents a minute). Will continue another time. Sunday 18th was also an action packed day.

Barry

We haven’t been able to post any reports for a while because our lap-top became infected with dozens of viruses and no longer works! It’s not so easy doing them, espeically lengthy ones, from hotel internet systems that charge 50 cents per minute (like the one in San Francisco, our current location). (The one in New York was only 20 cents per minute). Anyway, we have heaps to report and I’ve been writing down notes with a view to typing up quickly on the blog. Lots to say about our last weekend in NYC, which was terrific, plus general observations on that great city – not to metnion fabulous San Francisco, which Joan and I fell in love with at first sight.

Strobe light’s beams,
create dreams…
On a warm San Francisco night!

More soon,

Barry

I took the camera to Harlem but the vibe just wasn’t right to be the obvious tourist taking photos. There were great photo opportunities, mostly the local people and shops and stalls, but also street signs: Frederick Douglass Boulevarde, Martin Luther King Drive, etc. And, of course, the historic Apollo Theater.

There was no sense of danger; just a (very subjective and possibly false) sense of what is acceptable to the local (black Americans) on the part of (white) visitors.

125th Street, the main road, is vibrant with all sorts of shops and heaps of people using them. However, as Joan said, the guys in the ‘Roman Imperial gladiatorial’ costumes (they were meant to be serious uniforms) were scary. We stopped to listen to their sidewalk speech – the only white faces in the crowd – and it was angry, militant, the Bible-is-literally-true, you’ll-burn-in-hell-unless-you-agree-with-us, type of stuff.

A portion of 125th Street has the street stalls Joan described. Few were political but those that were political tended to be overtly racist, promoting books and DVDs by the likes of Louis Farrakhan and Elijah Muhammad. None were left-wing – which I believe is the reason why the black racists/nationalists have filled the vacuum for those strongly wanting change. Gone are the days of the W.E.B. Dubois and Paul Robesons or the Martin Luther Kings who knew that the future lay with the unity in struggle of all people, black or white.

In Harlem I kept thinking of Eric Burdon’s song “New York 1963-America 1968”, as Joan said, but it’s been on my mind this whole trip. Burdon says that when he visited New York with the Animals in the mid-1960s, he would sneak off to Harlem to sit in at gigs in the local black music venues. Very brave of him back then, I’d say, but he was passionate about blues music and, no doubt, he would have had black American friends or associates with him, which would have made a difference.

“When I got to America, I say it blew my mind”!

Barry

Hi,

Just to let you know that the ARM conference was on yesterday. There weren’t a lot of participants, generally about ten to fifteen in each session, though the organisers worked those of who were there, hard. The sessions started sharp on 9am and went through until after 6. We had to be out of the building by 6.30 and were finishing off our conversations at 6.28. As I said there weren’t a lot of people but each one who was there had some past accomplishments in the area of mothering research. It was a great day and I met some wonderful women. The arts were well represented – photography, film, art, literature, drama, and activism. If the event is anything to go by we are going to be treated to a flourishing of artistic representations on the experience and institution of mothering, motherhood; something I’ll be looking forward to and hopefully contributing to. My presentation went down well and there was some interesting discussion and reflections for me to think about on the way back home. I think of a terrific day the most memorable was the last session that was with only about six participants but the two presenters, inspirational women (who are probably both grandmothers) treated us to three short plays between them. One of the plays was based on the true story, and started with a woman looking from afar onto her two daughters who were shopping in Wallmart. She couldn’t approach them because there was a court order against her making any contact. The order was based on a Judges decision that her claims – that her husband was molesting the girls – were misguided. And inspite of her repeated attempts to prove her case the system seemed to conspire against both her and her girls. The presenter knew the woman. She knew a lot about the case, and she was in the course drawing on any and every possible contact (including lawyers and judges) to overcome a system that had gone terribly wrong. This unfortunately, isn’t uncommon. The presenter Paula Caplan was now writing a short play to bring more attention to the events. Like I said, this is a session that I won’t forget. I know the same thing happens in Australia – maybe I could link-up a woman I know in Australia working on similar cases with Paula?!

Anyhow, enough for now, take care and love, Joannie

Hi,

(This post was written a few days ago but was waiting in draft – so is out of sequence with events)

I was pretty carefull when i bought my shoes and thought I was well prepared – though I didn’t buy joggers – after being a long time fan of Sex and the City I thought they might not be cool. On our first days here we walked around a lot, looking at our map, plotting a path and thinking, ah that’s not far. One thing I’ve learnt the island of Manhattan is long and wide, and the distances between the west village, little Italy, Lower and Upper Manhattan, Central Park, Harlem – the distance between the east and the west side are extensive. I don’t know how other people go but I still haven’t really got my bearings. The grid pattern of the streets makes navigation all that much easier. How can you get lost? Needless to say, we’ve strayed from time to time and I am much more careful to watch the progression so as not to add too many more steps than necessary. Barry’s suggested we look for the place of the sun – rising in the east or setting in the west – and thus giving us some guidance – which has helped.

So, over these last days I’ve managed to talk Barry into using the subway and taxis more, which has helped. We’re not good at getting away early and left the hotel at about 9.30 to 9.45 (pretty late A) and because Barry has appointments at various heritage institutions we had to be at lower Manhattan by 1pm – but then what to do in these few hours in the morning – when there is so much to do. So we decided to go up to the American Natural History Museum (which is huge and really could take up a day – though Joey wasn’t impressed). We did our couple of hours and with a combination of both train and taxi managed to get back to the other one on time – though by the time the second one was finished we were pretty tired.

I, for one, like to look through natural history museums, though from what we saw of this one – it was a mix of the old 1950s exhibitions (which were pretty nice), the newer informative formats which loads of text and photos (that didn’t really work), and the more creative presentations that were good. It was worth visiting but unfortunately I don’t think Joey got much out of it though thankfully Hannah was more interested and engaged. Made me wonder about the value of all those school excursions that the kids have told me are generally regimented.

The second heritage place was the Lower East Side Tenement Museum which was really good, very informative, but the tour went for over about one and a half hours and we were standing in one place for long stretches of time while the tour leader told us stories about the the building and the families that lived there. Like I said it was very informative and interesting but by the end my feet were sore.

Better go for now, Joannie

Hi,

Ever since arriving I keep thinking of this trip as a kind of pilgrimage to a cultural Mecca. I understand this could be overstating the case but what I am trying to get at is a feeling, a connecting with so many things familiar, for Barry and I, if not for Joey and Hannah. You know growing up in 1950s, 60s Australia on a diet of American television and movies, so many things familiar. Joey and Hannah just can’t understand it’s not their experience. How many times have we seen ‘that’ Hollywood sign. In our childhood we (and I guess loads of people from around the world) saw footage of ‘those’ film stars leaving their foot, or hand, prints into cement outside the Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, and here we were walking over them; at times it’s surreal.

Today we caught the subway up to Harlem, that was great. Only about 15 minutes on the train away from 42nd street and yet what a different experience when we surfaced onto the street. After all it was Saturday shopping time. We were in 125th Street near the intersection with Frederick Douglas Avenue. We were walking up towards the Apollo Theatre and Barry kept singing the words from an Eric Burdon song – New York 1963 America 1968. Funnily enough I learnt the same words while listening to Burdon albums with a boyfriend in the late 60s . . .

And when I got to America, I say it blew my mind
And when I got to America, I say it blew my mind

The Apollo Theater on a 125th street,
The place was closed, it was pouring rain,
I had a feeling I’d go there again,
The taxi driver thought I was insane

. . . we looked across the street and here was the Apollo Theatre. Like most other things it looked smaller than either of us had imagined. The street was bustling. We weren’t the only white faces, though we were amongst the minority. It was the first time in the last weeks (since we arrived in America) that we saw street stalls selling books!! We saw a couple of music shops, clothes and shoes. And loads of stalls selling all kinds of oils – that, I presume, would be used to make potions, to bring love, health, wealth, or whatever anyone’s heart may desire. Loads of these stalls. Then we came across a group of black Americans (about 8 of them) that were dressed in an outfit that looked something like a Roman uniform, headress and all. And the leader was reading from a biblical text that was talking about the tribes if Israel, interesting. I pulled over to listen for a while but Barry was keen to move on. He felt uncomfortable amongst this militant christianity that was just a way up from another a militant Islamic group – the black muslems – whoes forebares were responsible for the death of Malcolm X. Barry felt that we weren’t welcome there but my strategy in places like this is to just blend into the background, walk like I am one of the locals, like I’ve been there many times before.

I’m so glad we went up there. We didn’t hang around for long. We walked back towards the northern end of Central Park, which is so huge, even half of it takes up something like 30 blocks; and so beautiful. New York is such a huge city with so many nooks and crannies to explore you could do so for many weeks, months, or years.

Last night, after the conference, I met up with a couple of others and went to a Hot Mama Burlesque Show that was terrific, very entertaining. The female compare was a daughter of May West, she was so witty, funny, talented and sexy. I hadn’t realised that Burlesque is another world for strip (though not of the full body type). So in between the wonderful songs and commentary of the compare we were treated to something like 8 performances. And because the event was to commemorate hot mamas, each of the women had a different and relevant theme from props that included brooms and dustpans, to a milk maid, who during the performance brought out a breast pump (pumped some milk and than drank it). One of the women did an Italian performance where her outfit included a dress that resembled something like a pizza and her song along the lines of her husband wanting some pizza every night. It was great fun.

Today, we went looking for a fea market (so that Joey might find some second hand CDs) we tracked down some terrific markets and soon found out that there were virtually no CDs but heaps of fascinating old and second hand goods that mesmerised both Barry and I. We came across a guy who was selling some old fur coats, including what looked like those mink coats that we saw those Hollywood stars were all those years ago. He said that the coats included some silver fox (he said worth $4-5,000), other kinds of fox ($3 to $4,000), and a long mink coat (that he said worth $10,000). Anyhow, I said would it be okay if my hubby takes a couple of photos with me wearing them, he said, sure – so here attached a couple of examples. It was fun.

Anyhow, enough for now, on the next blog I’ll talk about the Association for Research on Mothering, conference that was on yesterday.

take care and best, Joannie

Can’t quite believe that we only have two days left in New York. Today is Saturday 17th, around 8.00 in the morning. We fly to San Francisco on Monday 19th. I’m sitting at the desk in our hotel room, in very dim light (Joey, Hannah and Joan are asleep) with a cofee by my side. I went down to the diner, conveniently located next to the hotel, for a takeaway coffee. (Cost a dollar).

Joan gave her presentation at the conference yesterday – it’s her story to tell. That night she also attended a burlesque show downtown in the Village. I opted to stay home – the wrestling (‘Smackdown’) was on TV and also I figured Joan would like to follow up her contacts with conference participants who had arranged to be at the show. It’s good to have moments of personal space when travelling as a family unit, though I must say it has, so far, gone much more smoothly than I anticipated. There have been occasional difficulties rather than regular dramas; overall, it’s gone well, especially given the close confines of our accommodation.

I took Joey and Hannah to the Madame Taussaud Wax Museum in Times Square yesterday. It is just amazing! So many life-like, life-sized, wax figures. Joey was ‘rapt to find one of Biggy Smalls, a famous rap artist. Unfortunately, Joan had the camera, as she thought she might photograph some of her conference proceedings. If the wax museum wasn’t so costly (about $90 for two adults and one child), I’d seriously consider going back, just to take photos of Joey and Hannah (and me) with some of our favourite (wax) celebrities. They had Rosa Parks, Ozzie Osbourne, Josephine Baker, Princess Diana, Janis Joplin, Charlie Chaplin, Bob Marley, Albert Einstein, and scores of others. (The above list is not in any order of importance – if it were, then Ozzie would clearly come after Einstein!) The museum covers three storeys and it’s a thrill entering each new room to discover who is represented there.

We’ve nutted out a rough plan for the weekend. Today we hope to go uptown to a flea market – Joey is really keen on this and is hoping to find some special CDs. Joan and I have booked ourselves in to a jazz venue for tonight, and also hope to see more of the uptown area, especially Harlem. I’m keen to see the Apollo Theatre, the venue that launched the careers of many black American legends, including Ella Fitzgerald, James Brown, Billie Holliday, Aretha Franklin, Diana Ross, etc.

We’ve done our best to involve Joey and Hannah in making decisions about things to do, and this has helped, I think – even though it is a big ‘ask’ on our part, given that they are only 14 and 12 respectively.

Hopefully, we’ll grab some time to sit down and think and talk about San Francisco. We’ll be there for three nights.

I’m feeling sad that our time in New York is coming to an end. Anyway, here are some random scenes from around our hotel on W42nd Street.

Barry

Yesterday (Thursday 15th May) we were all up early to be at the ferry terminal at Battery Point, the southern tip of Manhattan, for the ferry ride to Ellis Island, the site where 12 million immigrants to the US were processed between the 1890s and the 1920s. The ferry passes the Statue of Liberty from a distance. Ellis Island is a wonderfully preserved national heritage site and museum. It’s just brilliant and we could have spent a couple of full days just looking around. I met with staff of the museum, including the oral history officer. It’s all very impressive and inspiring – and a hugely popular spot for local and international visitors (more than three million a year). Unfortunately, Joey genuinely does not like museums – he did warn us of this prior to leaving Australia – but we hoped he might change once here. C’est la vie. We’re just having to do any museum visits under a degree of unpleasantness and certainly more speedily than we’d like. Thus, we only had the morning at Ellis Island.

Anyway, it’s all been very good and here are some photos of Ellis Island, the museum, the ferry trip back to Battery Point and also the Monument to the Immigrants, which is in Battery Point park. I’ve also included a photo I took of the Statue of Liberty from the ferry.

Joan on the ferry.

Ellis Island from the ferry.

Barry at the famous clearance hall on Ellis Island.

A display at the museum.

Statue of Liberty from ferry.

Back to Manhattan (Battery Point) on the ferry.

The Monument to the Immigrants at Battery Point, Manhattan.

I visited Columbia University at Morningside Heights, between Broadway and Amsterdam Avenue, at the edge of Harlem, yesterday (Wednesday 14th May). It was my first outing on my own, without Joey or Hannah or Joan. I had arranged to meet with people at the University’s Oral History Research Office, the first oral history centre established anywhere, back in 1948 by the eminent historian, Alan Nevins. For me, it was akin to a Muslim visiting Mecca.

I usually wake up early, around 6.00 am, and Joey, Hannah and Joan are usually still deeply asleep. Thus, I left early for the campus, catching a taxi on W42nd Street around 7.30 am. The traffic was surprisingly sparse (though half an hour later, traffic and hundreds of people swarmed out of nowhere). The taxis, incidentally, are everywhere – the most common form of vehicular transport in Manhattan. We have found the drivers to be efficient and honest. Rarely have we spent more than $15 on a fare. The subway (railway) is also efficient and good value at $2.00 a ticket.

It was a beautiful day: blue skies, warm with a cooling breeze.

I alighted from the cab at the caste-iron gates of the central campus on Amsterdam Avenue and strolled through them. As soon as I had entered the campus grounds, I was overcome by a nostalgia for my days as a university undergraduate. There’s a tranquility on this type of old campus, room to think. Columbia has stunning old buildings, huge by the standards on Australian campuses, but confined within a relatively small area. There are beautifully maintained lawns and statues everywhere – Jefferson, Hamilton, a large bronze lion donated by a former student who became a famous sculptor, an iron-worker monument outside the department of engineering, a version of ‘The Thinker’ outside the school of philosophy.

My appointment was at the Butler Library, a huge columnade building that I ridiculoulsy thought I might have difficulty finding! It’s directly opposite the main library of the university. There’s a nice lawn area, an ‘agora’, in between. I photographed both libraries. The Butler has the names of the great thinkers of western civilization engraved along its upper facade. There was a great vibe looking upon these secular monuments.

Something that disappointed me, however, was the absence of any sign of student dissent or rebellion. It was all too tranquil, too conformist – reminiscent of the image of the 1950s American campus, the period when ideology was said to have ended. There were signs on sections of lawn admonishing people not to be noisy, not to litter, not to smoke, etc. Over the top, I thought, especially the bit about being noisy.

The students seemed docile – those outside just lounged around (lucky things!), talking on their mobiles (cell-phones, as they’re called over here) while having a cigarette. No-one was giving out leaflets, there was no graffitti anywhere, no posters on walls – just some neatly hung banners by Christian groups inside the Student Union building. I saw these from outside the building, as one cannot gain admission unless one has a student card. (Talk about creating an ivory tower). Still, things turn into their opposite. The 1950s gave rise to…. the 1960s!

In 1968, Columbia was one of the campus hot-spots in the world youth rebellion. I stumbled upon an exhibition dedicated to that rebellion – but it was in the Manuscript and Rare Book section of the library; presumably not a commonly visited section. In the campus area along Broadway, there was an alternative bookshop – the only one we’ve seen – and it had in its window a poster/calendar commemorating the 1968 events. I wanted to buy a copy but the bookshop didn’t open till 10.00, when I had my appointment.

I spent about two hours wandering the campus and the section of Broadway alongside it. At last, I found some good strong coffee – at Starbucks! I’m not complaining, as I have been desperate for some good coffee since landing in the USA over two weeks ago. Starbucks is warm and inviting – and has some excellent music playing in the background. On this occasion – how New York! – it was a recording of Thelonious Monk doing ‘Blue Monk’. There I was, sitting in this warm friendly place, listening to Monk, watching all the locals and students going about their daily routines in the street outside, along the famous Broadway.

Some photos:

The Butler Library, Columbia University, NY

The university library, Columbia University.

Is he thinking that the philosophers have only interpreted the world – the point is to change it?!

The 1968-2008 poster/calendar in the bookshop window on Broadway.

The bookshop from across the road – it’s on the ground floor on the corner.

Old local newspaper from 1968 as part of library exhibition.

Part of exhibition about Columbia uprising in 1968 at Butler Library.

The price of food continues to impress me as cheaper than in Australia, the quality is very good and the quantities are very big. We quickly learned that ‘small’ translates into ‘medium’ by Australian standards and medium, or ‘regular’ as they say here, means large. Loosen your belt-buckle if you order anything ‘large’ – it will be huge. Here are a couple of photos to prove the point: taken at a diner in Binghamton, where we had dessert with our friend Larry Kassan after attending the Shrine Circus at the Broome County Arena. Hannah is eating a ‘regular’ portion of lemon merangue pie while Joey is eating a chocolate eclair (probably four times the size of one in Australia). (Also note Joey’s gear – all purchased at Binghamton, save for the cap which is a Hollywood original). – Barry