I get asked regularly how many times I’ve been to New York. My go-to reply is, “I don’t know. A lot.” I tried to count them up recently, and assuming I didn’t forget any, I believe I have just recently returned from my 22nd visit to the Big Apple. While that statistic is a little shaky, I do know that this was my lengthiest stay – six full days.
I am more of a long-weekend-traveler, because (believe it or not) I experience some anxiety when I travel (mostly in the week or two leading up to a trip), and I have a tendency to get a little homesick, even if it only manifests in difficulty sleeping. So, I had to wonder how my favorite city would stand up to the task, and how I’d be able to stand up at all by day 4 if I took my usual 18-hour-days, non-stop, see-everything travel pace.
Happily, most of my pre-trip jitters were assuaged by driving to North Carolina a day early to spend some time with my dear friends, Jimmy and Emily (and baby Skylar!) Graham. This required me to be packed more than 24 hours in advance of my flight, and I was able to dispense with that nagging “what am I forgetting?” feeling that I think everyone knows. Additionally, it meant that the day before my flight was spent relaxing, laughing, talking, and watching Friday Night Lights with friends, which is my idea of a perfect day, to be quite honest.
I must also interject my profound and sincere gratitude to Jimmy, who woke up at 3:30 IN THE MORNING to take me to the airport, so that I didn’t have to deal with driving/parking/paying-for-parking at RDU, which alleviated perhaps the most stressful part of traveling for me. Thank you, Jimmy!
As is my usual practice, I put on my makeup and curled my hair while sitting at my gate waiting to board the plane. There was no way I was waking up earlier just to look nice arriving at the airport before 5am. Ridiculous. Of course, I shouldn’t have bothered with any of it, given what happened when I arrived in New York.
I flew into JFK, so rather than spring for a cab, I usually elect to take the AirTrain to the subway, which saves me $40-50, which is enough for me to justify carrying my suitcase up two, three, or four flights of stairs out of the subway at my destination. This being the most difficult part of the $2.50 trip, there was no way I was going to take my suitcase back down the stairs to wait out the downpour that greeted me when I reached the street. I had ten blocks to walk to my hotel, and it was just going to have to happen in the rain. I didn’t have an umbrella or a jacket in my possession, and even if I had, I didn’t have any spare hands to pull them out. So, I tucked my head and hauled… luggage… until I reached my hotel, soaking wet.
The clerk at the front desk greeted me with, “Can I get you a towel?” instead of a “hello,” and checked the computer to see if there were any rooms ready. Given that it was 9am, check out wasn’t until noon, and check IN wasn’t until 3, nothing was available, which he reported to me with an obvious “you poor thing” expression on his face, before pointing me to a restroom where I could try to get myself together.
I rolled my suitcase to the bathroom and stood there for a moment, at a loss for what to do. I didn’t have any rain-suitable clothes in my bag, and it seemed illogical to put on dry clothes just to go out in the rain again. The shoes would have to be changed – thank goodness I had another pair. My eyes drifted to the hand dryer, and I held my socks under it, drying them quickly. I held my shirt under the dryer next. That was going to take a lot longer, and removing my shirt had left me keenly aware that my bra was also soaked, which is uncomfortable to say the least. So, I set the shirt aside and held my bra under the dryer. I credit human ingenuity and desperation in the face of dire circumstances with the realization that, if I positioned the cup just right, I could dry my bra and my hair at the same time. It was at precisely this moment that I started to laugh maniacally to myself and said, “Welcome to New York!”
A few times during this process, someone tried the door, and I’d call out a half-hearted “Sorry!” that conveyed the message, “You’re not getting in here anytime soon.” Around the time that my shirt and pants could be classified as merely damp, I realized I had created sauna conditions in the little room, so dry or not, I had to get out of there. The maids in the hallway cast suspicious glances in my direction when I emerged in a puff of steam into the hallway, smiled sheepishly, and put my towel with the dirty laundry.
The rain had backed off dramatically, so having regained my composure, I left my bags with my new friend at the front desk, and headed back out into the elements. I walked to the subway station, and the train to Flushing was still a few minutes out, so I seized the moment to look out on my “neighborhood” of Long Island City.
I’m a creature of habit in general, but I try to experience a few new things every time I go to New York. Luckily, I’ve found a very effective tour guide in White Collar. Shows set in New York don’t typically film in New York because it’s so expensive, but White Collar does, and they make sure to get production’s money’s worth by showcasing the city in all its glory. I often find myself pausing or rewinding to go back to a frame of the city and then googling to find out where it is so I can add it to my list of places to see. So, White Collar had me on board the 7 train to Flushing, Queens, in search of the Hall of Science, Flushing Meadows Park, and the Unisphere.
Riding the train for 45 minutes and still being in the same borough is always a reminder of how enormous New York City really is. I was grateful to be riding, though, because every time we’d come to a stop, I’d hear the rain pounding on the roof of the subway car, and I became mindful again of my not-quite-dry clothes.
When I reached my stop, the deluge had abated, but it was still steadily sprinkling, which made me grateful for subway lines that run above ground, so I didn’t have to stand on the corner and figure out which way I needed to walk. (The day my internal compass clues into how to orient myself after walking diagonally, turning left, left, right, left and walking upstairs from underground, I’ll feel like a superhero.)
I made my way to the New York Hall of Science, and almost mistook it for a school given how many buses were parked out front. Only then did I realize what should have been obvious – kids go on field trips to science museums much more often than adults visit them for fun. In fact, I was so out of place that when I approached the ticket counter, I was asked, “Which school are you with?”
I was definitely the odd man out walking around amidst a bunch of 3-foot creatures laughing and squealing excitedly, but once I overcame the initially jarring effect, it was at least a little bit fun to see elementary school students having the time of their lives painting with bubbles, riding rocket ships, testing the speed of their baseball pitches, pretending to be music producers, and simulating moving a Mars Rover robotic arm on the moon. I got in on a little bit of goofing off in the Hall of Mirrors. I even violated my rule against selfies for this photo, proving that I’m not fat; I’m a foot too short.
I had fun at the Hall of Science, but I also encountered the first disappointment on my trip. The reason I came was to see their main attraction, the “Great Hall,” which is what caused me to pause my White Collar episode and say, “I want to go there!” I walked around and around looking for an open entrance, only to discover that it was closed and under construction. Sigh. I did manage to take a picture of the outside of the Great Hall…
…but what I really wanted to see was the inside, which (thank you, Google Image Search) looks like this:
I was a little bit let down to miss it, but reminded myself that I was still bound for the Unisphere, which promised to be even more captivating. I had quite a distance to walk, but it was all through a park, which made it enjoyable unto itself.
Then, I reached the Unisphere:
Pretty, isn’t it?
Except here’s the thing. It’s a FOUNTAIN. Do you see any water? It was supposed to look like this screen cap from White Collar:
Apparently, the unseasonably cold weather had delayed the filling of the pools and fountains in the park. There isn’t much I love more than a fountain, so New York, you owe me one. And if you really want to make it up to me, fill up my dang fountain and bring me Neal Caffrey so we can recreate that scene. I already know all my lines… “there’s no security in this world, only opportunity… Marie Antoinette… yadda yadda.” Let’s get it done.
Here’s another waterless “pool” from my walk around the park. I had no emotional attachment to this one; it’s just proof of my bad timing.
I had walked far enough to be closer to the next subway station than the one I’d come into, so I ended up walking by this plethora of off-duty 7 trains on my way to catch the train from Mets stadium.
I was fairly disappointed with my trip to Flushing. No fault of Flushing’s, of course, so I’ll try again another time. The rain had finally stopped, though, and I decided on the ride back to stop at the hotel again and see if a room had come available, because it was getting closer to noon. Someone had just checked out of a queen room when I walked in, so Andre at the front desk saw me come in and called for housekeeping to turn that room over first.
Reminding myself that I had sworn to rest a little more regularly on this trip, I went up to the room for about an hour and got settled in. Given the duration of my stay, I even hung up my shirts in the closet and put the rest of my clothes into drawers. I plugged in my chargers and set all my toiletries in the shower and on the sink. Besides the ability to take a shower with the door wide open and walk around naked, the ability to put my stuff wherever I want is my favorite part of having a hotel room to myself. Unpacking so completely also made it feel a little bit more like home. As a bonus, I discovered that my room was right around the corner from the ice machine. Hallelujah, amen.
My afternoon adventure was also a new experience – Williamsburg. Technically, I did go to Williamsburg last spring to watch White Collar film, but I didn’t do any exploring, then, and aside from the bearded, banjo-ed boys playing bluegrass randomly on a street corner, I didn’t feel like I’d fully seen the essence of the neighborhood. So, I hopped the train to Brooklyn and went exploring.
My ultimate goal was to walk across the Williamsburg Bridge into Manhattan. I had read that it was worth the walk just to look at all the graffiti painted everywhere on an otherwise quaintly ugly bridge. The only word of caution given to walkers and bikers alike had been, “Think you’re in shape? Hahaha let us know after that incline.”
So, I found the pedestrian entrance to the bridge and looked up the seemingly never-ending ramp to the bridge. Insert some foreboding background music a la John Williams or Hans Zimmer here.
I paused about two-thirds of the way up to take a breath a photo of Williamsburg.
Someone had painted this rainbow near the top of the path, as if to say, “Good job! You’re almost there!”
Made it!
The actual walk across the bridge was the easy part. And unlike walking across the tourist-laden Brooklyn Bridge, it was a mostly-solitary, peaceful walk. I passed a few locals heading home with their groceries, walking their dogs, or taking a jog, but I basically had the run of the place. And I didn’t have to worry about being run down by bikers, because they had their own lane on the opposite side of the bridge. The paths only converged for the descent into Manhattan.
My original plan when I arrived in Manhattan had been to walk down to the Seaport, but once I was standing in the East Village, I couldn’t help but think I was too close NOT to take a detour up to Old St. Patrick’s Cathedral. It’s nice to make new friends, like the Williamsburg Bridge, but that’s no reason to turn your back on the ones you’ve loved all along, right? (Plus, it’s right across the street from another favorite: The Little Cupcake Bakeshop.)
Resuming my original plan, I hopped a train downtown and started walking toward the Seaport. I had four “which way is Water Street?” women following me by the time we actually reached Water Street. I’ve experienced my fair share of directionally-challenged moments in New York – especially downtown – so I am always happy to help lead the way. I don’t mention that I’m also a tourist, lest they should doubt me and wander off.
The South Street Seaport sustained a lot of damage during Hurricane Sandy, and they still have a long way to go, but it’s nice to see things starting to come back to life there, because it’s such a charming area. Some of the holes have been patched up…
…and some are still awaiting repairs.
Most of the stores and restaurants on the exterior were still closed, but the interior shops were operational, and the decks were open, so I perched in a lounge chair, looking across the East River to the Brooklyn Bridge. I even “rested my eyes” a little bit, like my Daddy does when he “watches the news.”
Dark rain clouds were moving in again, and I had dinner plans in midtown, and had planned to take the East River Ferry to get there. Rain coming… and a boat ride… what could go wrong? J
I’d ridden the ferry from the Seaport across to Brooklyn many times, but it occurred to me that it would be awesome to take the ferry for its entire route up the East River. It’s $4 to ride it, and like the subway, it’s the same $4 whether you’re just crossing the river to Brooklyn, or you’re riding it all the way up to 34th Street. I don’t know why it took me so long to catch on to this, but here’s my PSA for tourists: Those $35 boat rides are fun and all, but you can’t beat $4 for 40 minutes on the East River with perpetual photo ops. Get on that.
The ferry ride was as awesome as I anticipated, and it was actually pretty cool to watch the ominous clouds engulfing Manhattan in the distance, with the Empire State Building just a distant shadow in the haze.
And then the clouds engulfed our boat, and I got wet yet again, though I went inside the upper deck after snapping a few photos.
Luckily, the cloud passed over our heads toward Queens just as we were pulling up to the dock in Manhattan, so I had a chance to dry off again on my walk to dinner.
I really enjoy my solitary wanderings around New York, but I was pretty excited to see familiar faces gathered at the door of The Hudson Bond when I arrived for dinner. Last year, when I was in New York with my dear White Collar clan, I didn’t arrive until Tuesday, so I missed the charity raffle dinner, and was playing catch-up to match names and faces for the rest of the week. This year, I knew a lot more names and faces, and I was really excited about being with everyone for the dinner.
The ladies in our group who organized this event are rockstars. We had a great location to accommodate a group of our size (which is hard to find in New York, I assure you), and many of our members made their own White Collar mementos to add to the raffle table. There were White Collar pajamas, mouse pads, notepads, puzzles, night-lights, mugs, and anything you could think of!
One of the “lots” even included books on the FBI and – I kid you not – someone had found and purchased a pair of socks just like the ones a very embarrassed Peter was forced to show off when he had to remove his shoes during “All In.” The studio also donated to our raffle and sent over some signed posters, t-shirts, and a White Collar messenger bag.
This year, our selected charity was Operation Smile, in which Sharif Atkins (Agent Clinton Jones) is passionately involved. Operation Smile provides free surgeries to repair cleft lip, cleft palate, and other facial deformities for children around the world. Here, Sharif is pictured with an infant after a successful surgery. Including the raffle proceeds and direct donations, our group raised $3,600 for Operation Smile! Sharif’s Crowdrise Fundraiser is still active, so if you’d like to donate to this cause, you may join us here. I came away from the raffle with a mouse pad I really wanted, representing “Burke’s Seven,” and a White Collar puzzle, which will probably be a joint project with my Granny, who is a puzzle-working gangsta. Plus, our awesome event organizers made everyone White Collar-themed goodie bags to take home, so that no one left empty-handed.
I started Tuesday morning by chasing a bus down Queens Plaza South, because I didn’t want to be late to meet the group to tour the studio. Of course, in the midst of this full-on sprint, an overzealous political petitioner stepped out in front of me to ask if I was a registered Democrat living in Queens. I thought it was pretty clear that I wasn’t running for fun (I’m not that crazy and I wasn’t remotely dressed for it), so it seemed ill-advised to choose me as the one to flag down, but I just yelled out “Virginia Libertarian!” and blazed past. I did manage to catch my bus when it turned onto Jackson Avenue, and then I got to the studio really early. But, that’s the catch with buses outside of Manhattan that don’t run as frequently… I caught the bus prior to the one I was planning to catch, because it was running late, but I thought I was catching my intended bus, running early, and that if I waited around for the next one, I might be late. At any rate, it spiced up my morning commute and I felt like I’d conquered the world when I caught it, so no regrets.
The cast was filming at a museum, so we were able to take our time touring “cold” sets, which is to say, not prepped for filming. I always enjoyed touring the One Tree Hill sets at Screen Gems, but since they sold tours to the general public on a regular basis, Warner Brothers had policies in place that disallowed us from taking any photos whatsoever, and you couldn’t touch anything, because they could have been in the middle of filming a scene, so if something got moved, then you’d have what should be a stationary object jumping back and forth on the counter when a scene is cut together. Mostly, though, they were just protecting their assets. Silvercup, however, does not offer public tours and therefore has no such rules in place.
So, they let us loose on all the sets, starting with Neal’s apartment.
One of Neal’s secret hiding places…
“Mozzie’s” wine…
Neal’s bathroom is looking a little sparse at the moment…
And his closet/speakeasy/recording studio hasn’t been used lately, but it’s possible – though entirely unconfirmed, I assure you – that there may still be a drawer full of Neal’s boxer shorts in that back right corner.
Next, we moved to The Burke House, where the safe is always a starring attraction. (Don’t worry. We put the painting back in front of it, so Peter won’t know we were there unless he checks our tracking data.)
Speaking of the safe and its former contents, I completed my own little scavenger hunt for this photo.
And of course we went out back, where we discovered that Peter is still stuck with that Micronesian Rai Stone that Mozzie left, a standing symbol to his precarious, but oft-necessary alliance with “The Suit.” Naturally, we had fun with it.
There was much discussion about this kitchen window. Peter and Elizabeth live in a row house, so they technically shouldn’t have one, but apparently the lighting team said they needed it, and they won the fight with the art department who said it shouldn’t be there. So, they took some liberties and gave Peter and El an alley that backs up partway off of their back yard.
The infamous prom picture – well, perhaps not the INFAMOUS one. But one of them.
Another popular picture – the man with the ring.
So much attention to detail – and so much cleanliness! – in El’s kitchen.
Some more temporary sets were in the works while we were taking our tour.
Our last stop was the FBI set. It’s the only set we didn’t see last year (except for some glimpses of it when we came in to watch filming), so we were all excited about exploring.
We started out role playing some good cop, bad cop in the interrogation room. Someone else took the picture of me yelling at PJ, who I’m sure was about to spill her guts to me, so you’ll have to settle for this:
The kitchen, where nobody can ever get a good cup of coffee. Although, Peter went from not even knowing how to make a pot of coffee to taking the machine apart, cleaning it, putting it back together, and brewing some up, so he’s come a long way, at least.
The stairs up to the top-dog office area…
And the Quantico double-finger-point for summoning peons.
Getting a file for Peter, so Neal doesn’t have to do it. “We have clerks for that!”
Peter’s desk!
Neal’s desk!
And the conference room, where many a con sting is hatched.
I was really amused by the sight of this crew guy, just strolling by outside the window…. Of a room that is supposed to be on the 21st floor of the FBI. Ha!
The FBI’s 10 Most Wanted Fugitives – which are actually pictures of the White Collar crew!
After visiting the sets, we swung by the art department to chat with some of the folks who put rai stones on sets, “forge” priceless bottles of whiskey, build zeppelins and design case files. This is Rob Zorella (real title: Art Department Coordinator), and after I came home and was watching an episode of White Collar (“Identity Crisis”), I spotted Rob’s face on Diana’s computer screen… his “character” was dead. So sad. He did say that it’s a lot easier to use the face or name of a crew or staff member, because then the names don’t have to clear, which saves time. Among other trivia questions, he asked if anyone knew where his “Zorella Hobby Kits” sticker was used on White Collar, and I guessed correctly – Mozzie’s model aircraft, the infamous Kardashian – “what it lacks in refinement, it makes up for in cargo space.”
After we left the studio, we had lunch at Masso’s (“Book of Hours”) and then walked over to Gantry Park, which afforded great views from the piers, which were also in “Book of Hours.” There were notably fewer dead mobsters laying on the pier during our visit, though.
After stopping for some ice cream along our way, I kept my promise to myself to go back to my room and rest a little while before venturing out again. It helped that I had never left Queens, so my hotel was 5 minutes away. The downside to pausing to rest is that it gives time for me to realize how tired I actually am. Even so, my shin splints and I headed back out to meet the group for dinner at The Globe (from “Copycat Caffrey”).
I was close to falling asleep at the table by the time dinner was done, but I still opted to take a slightly longer walk back to the subway to pass through Madison Square Park. Even late at night, the Shake Shack had a long line of folks waiting to get some burgers, fries, and milkshakes.
The park affords a nice view of the Empire State Building, but I usually only find myself in the neighborhood during the day, so I snapped this photo after circling the park. That’s the Flatiron Building on the left.
In an instance of fortuitous timing, I checked Facebook and had a message from my friend Adam, who lives in Austin, Texas. He’d realized that I was in New York and dropped me a note to tell me that his wife, Rachel, happened to be in the city, too! I have seen Adam on a few occasions over the years when he passed through on tour with his band (Diesel & Dixie), but I hadn’t gotten to see Rachel in at least 10 years, so it was exciting to get the chance to catch up. Hence, I started my Wednesday morning by meeting Rachel for breakfast at Kellogg’s Diner in Williamsburg. I’d been subsisting on hotel continental breakfasts, so it was nice to break the pattern for bacon and eggs and hash browns… and Diet Coke. Plus, Rachel and I had a great time chatting – she was in town to do an installation at a photo gallery in Chelsea to show off her work, because she’s awesome like that!
I had another White Collar afternoon planned with my group, in which we planned to go watch part of a location shoot. However, owing to the skill and efficiency of director Russell Fine, they were so far ahead of schedule for the day that Production suggested we just come back to the studio instead, since they’d be headed there to film next.
The awesome production staff set us up in a room on the floor where CBS’s Elementary films and brought us all t-shirts and season 4 water bottles. They were all apologetic that we had missed filming, but I think most of our group found sitting in an air conditioned room with snacks and drinks (courtesy of production!) preferable to standing on a sidewalk in the heat, anyway.
Tim DeKay came up to see us and we surprised him by singing “Happy Birthday” and presenting him with a gift. He is all ease and graciousness, and spent about an hour with us, cracking jokes, taking photos, and signing autographs. We love Peter Burke, but we love Tim DeKay more.
Tim returned to set, and we hung out for a while longer until Matt got a quick break from filming, and he, too, came up to see us. He was filming one scene after another, so he really only had about 10 minutes free while they were turning cameras around. I wasn’t watching the clock, but they were ready to resume filming before he’d spoken to everyone, yet he stayed until he’d seen every last one of us, and made sure we knew how grateful he was that we’d come.
Some of our members had brainstormed and created a tongue-in-cheek marketing poster for an imaginary line of cologne called “Bromance,” inspired by Neal and Peter. I didn’t think to take any photos when Tim got his poster, but I’m glad I had my camera in hand when Matt saw it. About a second after I took this photo, once it had registered what he was looking at, he threw his head back in hysterical laughter.
I think It’s safe to say he was highly amused with his gift.
There is nothing not to love about Matt Bomer, and I’m totally fine with that.
Leaving the studio (grinning from ear to ear, of course), I had just enough time to grab my dinner on the go and eat it back at my hotel before setting out for Brooklyn to see The National play at Barclays Center.
The venue was massive, but I was pretty happy with my seat. I wasn’t close to the stage (as that would have been nearly impossible), but I was directly facing the stage, and the sound was great from where I was. I arrived at my seat just as the opening act was clearing the stage, so I had time to look around with the lights up and marvel at the size of the venue, and still be in place to enjoy the roar of the crowd when The National took the stage, and the laughter when Matt Berninger joked about how nice it was to be “back at Barclays, where we got our start.”
They played a lot of songs from their newest album, “Trouble Will Find Me,” as well as several from my favorite album, “Boxer.” At one point, Annie Clark (you probably know her as St. Vincent) joined them for “This is the Last Time,” and they even broke it back old-school and did “Abel.” It was a fantastic set-list and great concert all around. I was a little worried about getting out of the building ahead of the massive crowd, but there was no way I was moving once they started into an acoustic version of “Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks.” It was perfect, and the whole crowd sang along. I found this video of it on YouTube, which isn’t the same as being there, but it’s the best I can do for you, dear readers: http://youtu.be/nzXilTjDOSY
I should probably just leave the night right there – where I floated back to Queens on a cloud. But, I can’t resist mentioning that my crowd anxiety was for naught in the end. Yes, there were a LOT of people flowing out of that building onto the street at once, and a vast majority of those were all trying to get into the same subway station at Atlantic, where so many lines meet. For about two minutes, I was stuck in a crowd of people trying to make their way down the subway steps, and I was a little worried about how that was going to go. But, we were moving a lot faster than I anticipated, and once I swiped through the turnstile and headed for my train, a crazy thing happened. It was like the crowd just evaporated underground. There were quite a few people waiting when I got to my platform, but it was by no means crowded, and when the train pulled in, I got on, sat down, and there were still OPEN SEATS when we took off. It was a decidedly NOT crowded train. It boggled my mind how THAT MANY PEOPLE could disperse into a subway station. One minute, you’re in the middle of nearly 20,000 people, and the next minute, they’ve gone their ways and you’re sitting on a quiet little subway car. It’s funny how something so simple impressed upon me the enormity of New York, but it really did blow my mind.
In spite of my late night at the concert, I got up bright and early on Thursday morning so I could go to Central Park and wait in line for tickets to Shakespeare in the Park’s “The Comedy of Errors.” These shows are free to the public and always feature name actors. For “The Comedy of Errors,” the featured actors were Jesse Tyler Ferguson (of “Modern Family”) and Hamish Linklater (“New Adventures of Old Christine,” etc.) These factors combined meant tickets were very hard to get. I tried the internet lottery for tickets two different days, but wasn’t chosen, and I knew the likeliest way to get tickets was to show up in Central Park early and wait in line. Tickets were to be distributed at noon, and I had read that if you were in line by 8:00am, you were almost guaranteed tickets (each person gets two). I was not keen on waiting four hours, but the idea greatly improved upon me once Rachel said she’d wait with me. She brought us a blanket to sit on and some snacks to eat, and we parked ourselves in line for the long haul.
Of course, if you’re going to sit somewhere for four hours, it helps if you have a nice view. Central Park is good for that, and also for people watching!
A sitting up view…
…and a laying down view.
Just before noon, the line-workers came by and told us all to go ahead and pack up our things and stand up, at which point the line got a lot more compact. We were a little better than halfway through the line, and I snapped this photo of the folks behind us, winding all the way down that path and then out of sight.
I’m not sure how many people lined up got tickets, but we got two each and were happily on our way!
We parted company at the edge of the park. Rachel was headed to explore some museums, and I hopped a train to my next new adventure — Coney Island!
It was a long ride out to Coney Island, and just a few people (of a bizarre range of demographics) left on the train when we reached the final stop. I had been given the impression that Coney Island wasn’t a particularly safe place to be, so I had my guard up initially, being by myself.
All the foot traffic seemed to be headed in the same direction, and so I walked along and kept to myself. I knew there were a few “musts” at Coney Island — a ride on the Wonder Wheel, and a visit to Nathan’s Famous Hot Dogs. I don’t even really like hot dogs, but I don’t generally do things halfway. Nathan’s isn’t the kind of place you could miss, so I had spotted it from the station, and stood waiting to cross the street when two men walked up. I was still in “be aware of your surroundings” mode, and then I heard them talking about how they wanted to eat a bunch of Nathan’s hot dogs and then throw them up riding the Cyclone. I couldn’t suppress my laugh, so they looked my way and I said, “You’ll understand if I head in the opposite direction if I see you in line for a roller coaster.”
We dispersed into separate lines when we got to Nathan’s, but once I got my food and walked toward the tables, those same two guys were just sitting down and invited me to join them. They were best friends and business partners from Kentucky who owned a restaurant. They said that made it difficult for them to find food up to their standards when traveling, but they were both enthralled with their Nathan’s hot dogs. They said that they take a vacation to New York about twice every year, but had never been to Coney Island, either. I’m not sure if they kept their food down on the roller coasters later, as I didn’t run into them again, but it was fun to have some small talk over lunch. Plus, meeting them put me at ease, so I no longer felt precarious about exploring this unfamiliar neighborhood.
When I walked out to the Boardwalk, it was a little jarring to see the beach. New York is surrounded by water, of course, but I never really thought of it as a place with a legitimate beach. It makes sense, of course, but for whatever reason, it had never occurred to me.
The Boardwalk was also home to one of the 88 pianos installed in various places in the City as part of the “Sing for Hope” project. I saw several of them during my trip. You can read about their purpose here.
Next, I made my way excitedly toward the Wonder Wheel!
When I got up to the Wheel, I went ahead and bought tickets for two rides. I wanted to get my feet wet and enjoy the view in the stationary cars at first, and then come back for a ride in one of the swinging cars. Online reviews would have had me terrified of riding either, but I love heights, so the chances of me being scared were slim to none.
After all, the higher you go, the better the view!
Here’s a self-portrait from the swinging car, taken just a moment before the “swinging” part went into full effect, which was less like swinging, and more like a roller coaster when it starts downhill after a long incline. Being totally unprepared, I screamed before realizing that it was AWESOME. The car did this every time the wheel reached a certain angle, and I think I could have stayed riding around in circles all day long!
On my way out of the park, I took note of a ride in Luna Park that I’ll have to catch next time:
(Luna Park charges a flat admission to get in, whereas Deno’s Wonder Wheel Park has an option to pay by the ride. I didn’t have time to do Luna Park admission justice, but I enjoyed Coney Island enough that I will definitely return!)
By the time I got back to Queens, it was looking more and more like the rains expected for Friday (from Tropical Storm Andrea) were going to arrive Thursday night. The weather app on my phone said the rain was coming in at 10pm, but I didn’t have high hopes for it to hold out that long, and I was on my way to see a play… in an outdoor theater. So, when I went back into the hotel and saw my buddy Andre at the front desk, I asked him if he could round up four trashbags for me and my friends, so we could stay dry if it rained on us in Central Park. He came through with four of the industrial bags, so I packed them in my purse, just in case.
I also found myself in need of a jacket. Even if the rain held off, it was going to be chilly when the sun went down (in New York. in June. OK.), so on a recommendation from my friend Lana, I stopped in the H&M to look for an inexpensive jacket. I found a nice cozy hoodie for $19.99, and then headed downtown where Lana and I were going to have dinner before going to the show. Rachel and her friend were going to meet us in Central Park.
My friend Lana and I always have a great time when we get together, but it’s amusing to note the ways in which we are so different. She’s a little more acquainted with the finer things in life, so she usually recommends 4 or 5 restaurants to me, and I choose the one that has something on the menu I’ve heard of before and can pronounce. I was therefore surprised when our dinner options for the evening included something about fried chicken, which I jumped on immediately with a “let’s go there!”
But, even coming down to my level on the cuisine, she had some objections to sitting in the rain for two hours at Shakespeare in the Park. I told her not to worry, because I had the trash bags, to which she replied, “You’re crazy if you think I’m putting a Hefty bag on over an Yves St. Laurent blazer, girl!” I didn’t really know what that meant, but I said it would be OK, because the trash bags were clear.
It was a true testament to our friendship that she decided to stick it out with me, even when the rain started falling as we walked into the park. We got to our seats and she pulled the trash bag over her head, saying, “I can’t believe I’m doing this!” Rachel and her friend arrived and were happy to discover that I had trash bags for them, too. By the time the show began, the rain was pouring. Shakespeare in the Park has a “rain or shine” policy, but I was a little nervous that they’d pull the plug with a rain so heavy. But, apparently, “the show must go on” still applies!
I had assumed beforehand that the stage was under cover, but the seats were not. As it happened, NOTHING was under cover. The actors on stage were in the same rain that we were, except they didn’t have the luxury of ponchos or trash bags to keep them warm and dry. Even so, they acted and sang and danced as if it was business as usual, though there was a repressed chuckle in their voices anytime there was a line about “drops of water” or the like. “The Comedy of Errors” lends itself to slapstick bits, and it was crazy to see actors (in character) falling down and rolling or sliding across the stage. I guess eventually, they were saturated with water anyway, so it no longer mattered, but I kept expecting one of them to bite the dust when it wasn’t in the script, just because that stage looked slippery for running and jumping and dancing in high heels. I could be wrong, but it seemed like they were all having a blast putting on their show in the rain, and we were certainly having a blast watching them. If I had it to do over and I could choose the weather, I wouldn’t have changed anything, because the trash bags and the rain and the extra camaraderie with the performers and each other took it from an entertaining show to the experience of a lifetime.
When the show was done, Lana was quick to suggest that we needed to get a group photo in our trash bags, which told me I wasn’t the only one who considered it a special night. We got our photo, and then we laughed all the way out of the park.
When I got back to the hotel, I hung my trash bag up to dry, because I was supposed to go on a walking tour of Brooklyn on Friday with my White Collar gals, and a little bit of rain was certainly not going to stop me.
We were a funny-looking bunch with all of our umbrellas and ponchos (and just the one designer trash bag), traipsing through Brooklyn neighborhoods that were generally devoid of tourists. Our first stop was at the facade used for The Burke House. The interior (obviously) is on a sound stage, but when they need an exterior shot, or Peter and Elizabeth are walking their dog, Satchmo, they film here. Also, in our first stroke of luck of the day, the owner was walking out of the house just as we walked up. Once he realized why we’d come, he was delighted, and opened his gate so we could get up onto his front stoop. He had us all stand up there so he could take a picture on his camera before he hurried on his way and told us to “have fun!”
This sign was on his front gate. Luckily, it didn’t say anything about “No White Collar fans!”
As we walked down the street, we paused to snap some photos of the house from “Neighborhood Watch,” where Joe Manganiello’s White Collar character lived, and Peter had to choke down tofu for dinner, while Neal talked a trapped Elizabeth through picking a lock. This photo is complete with the recycle bin Mozzie rifled through and the alleyway where Neal went snooping around.
We dried off a bit in the original Junior’s location over lunch and cheesecake — delicious, as always, and I had never been to the original location. One of the waitresses noticed that several of us were wearing White Collar shirts and/or hats, and came over to tell us how much she loves the show, too! Fans everywhere!
Our next stop was the former Williamsburgh Savings Bank, which White Collar used to film “Withdrawal,” and is currently rented out as event space. When we happened by, another television production was packing up after filming, so the doors were open. A representative from the leasing company was on site, and he was happy to let us come in to look around and take photos of the gorgeous building.
Once he realized we were White Collar fans, he took it one step further and asked us if we’d like to go downstairs to see the bank vault. Naturally, the answer to that was a resounding “yes!” and the vault was really something to behold. The door weighed 17 tons.
On our way to Fort Greene park, we paused to have some laughs about this statue of “Fowler.” None of us had a clue who the Fowler in the sculpture really was, but since we were doing a White Collar tour, there was lots of snickering about, “Oh, so THAT’S what happened to him!”
Our trip to Fort Greene was in search of the Prison Ship Martyr’s Monument of the Revolutionary War, from the brilliant White Collar episode (“Identity Crisis”), centering around Washington’s Culper Spy ring and the flag he carried across the Delaware.
Our New York native tour guide, Ellie, revealed that when White Collar filmed there, the art department created a plaque for the floor inside the monument, and the Park Department liked it so much, they kept it as a permanent fixture at the monument. We took turns trying to get a photo of it through the window of the door, but I don’t think anyone was successful. If only we’d had Mozzie’s key…
After that, the group was heading over to Chinatown to tour around and have dinner, but I had tickets to see The Phantom of the Opera that night, so I decided it was time for me to head back to change clothes and dry out my shoes before heading to the show. I wore my trash bag to the theater, too!
The Phantom of the Opera was wonderful! I’ve always loved the show and the music, so it’s been on my list of shows to see for a long time. It’s also the longest running show on Broadway, and I have pictures of their sign dating back to my very first trip to New York. So, finally, I can say that I’ve seen it! I canNOT say that I’ve ever made it through that show without crying. The monkey gets me every time. I did at least hold out until the end this time, which is progress.
The rain was even heavier when I came out of the show, and for the first time, I found myself feeling grateful for the underground passage between Port Authority and Times Square. It’s definitely handy during a torrential downpour.
Saturday was my last day, and I woke up to find beautiful blue skies and fluffy white clouds. I had to go ahead and check out of my room, but my flight wasn’t until 10pm, so I still had a full day ahead of me. I left my bags with Andre, and contemplated how best to take advantage of the beautiful day.
I knew I’d have to be back in the Theater District in time for my show at 2:00, so I decided to take the scenic route to midtown by passing it by entirely to head back downtown to the South Street Seaport, where I soaked up the sun for a while.
Of course, I had to ride the East River Ferry again — this time, with no threat of rain on the horizon. While I waited for the boat, I watched the constant flow of traffic in and out of the helipad on the pier.
The ferry ride was spectacular — once again, $4 well spent. Beautiful views of Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, and all four of the East River bridges.
Once I was on land again, I had just enough time to swing by Bryant Park and have lunch al fresco at the Southwest Porch before heading over to the John Golden Theater.
When my peers were into The Simpsons, I was into Frasier, and who didn’t love Niles? I’ve been a fan of David Hyde Pierce ever since, and knowing that he often performed on Broadway, I had it on my “bucket list” to see him do a show. It took a decade for my travels to New York to align with him in a Broadway show, and it was even more fortuitous that “Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike” had him sharing the stage with Sigourney Weaver, as well as Billy Magnussen — new to Broadway, but known to me from his years on As the World Turns.
The show scooped up a ton of Tony nominations (including one for Billy!), and I was lucky to get a good seat before there was a run on tickets. The show was absolutely hysterical, beginning to end, and I heard some people around me talking at intermission about Spike (Billy Magnussen), and how he was stealing the show! They had their program out, trying to figure out who he was, which made me smile.
The second act kept up the hilarity, but David Hyde Pierce had an amazing rapid-fire monologue that began the audience in stitches and then left us in tears. It was magnificent, and a great example of why he’s so beloved on the stage. The sudden turn into heartfelt territory carried through to the end of the play, even coinciding with a quick return to laughter. It was a great feel-good show for the end of my trip!
I went to the stage door with program in hand, not holding out high hopes for any of the actors to emerge, since it was a Saturday matinee performance on Tony weekend. I guess everyone else thought the same thing, because I was able to be on the front row at the gate without having rushed to get there.
Billy came out first, and the crowd was delighted by him. He was surrounded by giddy women almost immediately, but I got to say hello and get him to sign my program first.
I didn’t need to get a picture with Billy, since I already have several, but here’s one from years back, just for fun.
Sigourney Weaver came out right after him. She was rushed to get somewhere, but still took the time to sign as many programs as she could on her way out, including mine.
Kristine Nielsen was next. I wasn’t familiar with her before this performance, but she was a delight.
It hadn’t occurred to me, but The Majestic theater also shares John Golden Theater’s stage door, so the Phantom I’d seen perform the night before came out the same door to greet fans who’d just let out of that performance on the other side of the block.
All the actors from “Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike” had come out of the stage door except for David Hyde Pierce. A few people gave up and left, but I didn’t have anywhere to be for several hours, so I wasn’t losing anything by holding my post. Just a few minutes later, I saw him walking toward the door! I got excited in spite of myself. I was trying to remind myself that there was no guarantee he’d do anything other than walk right out and get in a car to leave. I didn’t know what to expect, so I try to keep expectations low, but I usually fail miserably at that, so I just stood there, shaking and hopeful.
When he reached the door, he immediately started signing programs and taking pictures with anyone who asked. Assuming he wasn’t working against the clock, I knew I’d get my chance. A guy standing behind me agreed to take the picture for me, and David signed my program and said he’d be happy to take a photo. I am grinning like a fool, but that’s OK, because I was thrilled!
I got a few looks from passersby as I walked down the street afterward, which told me I definitely had a goofy grin on my face, because you really have to be odd to elicit stares in Times Square!
In fact, this Elmo followed right behind me for more than a block, and it is REALLY creepy to be followed by a Muppet.
Haven’t seen this guy in a while…
I stopped into the Times Square Junior’s location for my customary slice of cheesecake to take to the airport, and then I decided to walk over to Grand Central Station so I could enjoy a little more of the nice day and see the Chrysler Building again before time to go to the airport.
I thought about taking the audio tour of Grand Central, as some of the White Collar group had done earlier in the week, but once I got there, I decided I just wanted to walk around on my own. The building really is magnificent. They’re celebrating their centennial this year.
I even saw the oyster bar that Mozzie and Neal discussed in “The Portrait,” and which Josh Ritter also brought up to me when I met him last year. I don’t like oysters, so I ate in the food court instead, but perhaps one of these days, I’ll go in there just for the ambiance.
I couldn’t stall any longer on heading back to the hotel to get my bags, so I hopped the 7 train from Grand Central. I really expected that, after six days, I’d be so eager to get home that I’d be more than ready to leave when the time came. Instead, I was sitting on the train looking out at the New York skyline, and my eyes welled up a bit, knowing I was leaving.
I still had the $40 my Mom had given me before my trip — “in case you want to take a cab” — and I was contemplating using that to take the easy way back to the airport instead of schlepping my tired bones and my bags back to the subway station and to the AirTrain. I checked HopStop to see how long it would take me to get back to the airport by subway, and saw there was a service change on the train I needed which would require me to make an extra transfer. That decided it for me, and I had my hotel call me a car.
My flight home boarded on time, departed on time, and arrived in Raleigh early. Luckily, Jimmy was keeping tabs on my flight and was already waiting to pick me up. It was just prior to midnight at that point, and I was exhausted and ever so grateful that I didn’t have to drive anywhere.
Another glorious visit to New York to add to the count. I’m already looking forward to number 23!
This was my first time actually going over to Liberty Island. Previously, I have opted to ride the (free!) Staten Island Ferry to simply get a good view of the statue, but it is a nice experience to actually go over to the statue at least once. 
pandandrum 