New York 2015

1/17/2015

The day is January 9th, 2015: I am returning home late from a week long excursion in Payson, Arizona at a retreat called Tonto Creek Camp. At the retreat, I am participating in a diversity event with an organization called CollegeTownASU. During this event, a sentiment was uttered that emboldened what I had already determined was going to be my life mission, “live life to the fullest”. It’s a simple enough cliché. I hear it all the time.

So why don’t we? Why don’t we ‘live life to the fullest’? Hearing the sentiment, from videos of a former CollegeTown counselor that had passed away during an excursion to Brazil, I couldn’t help but feel that it was all a bit hammy and overblown. And yet. And yet, how many people do I know that have never lived life to the fullest? How many people hold themselves back, or hide behind walls, or encapsulate themselves in fear- in fear of failure or rejection or of not being good enough? How many people love (to hate) their jobs? Live day to day, just for the day to day- waiting for that ‘big break’ or planning for that ‘big moment’?
It hit me. It hit me back in December. It hit me back in 2006. How many years had it been? How many years since I felt like I could ‘live life to the fullest’? Six? Seven? Eight? How many years?

Then it all clicked. It all clicked in a major way. Here I am, more capable than anyone I know of living life to the fullest. And why? Because I’ve earned the privilege. Sure, I had a few breaks in my life: I have parents that are pretty well off financially and I didn’t grow up around drugs or illness, but really there is so much in life I had to earn. Earn outright, for myself, to put myself in a position where I absolutely can live life to the fullest.

Looking back, the best times in my life, the ones I cherish the most, were spent in other places. Not time spent at ‘home’, but in between ‘homes’, in the world, meeting new people, discovering new things. Out there I look for trust and experience and I often find it. At home, that’s been difficult for me to find. It’s simple enough for me to trust others, with my feelings, wants, needs, body, mind, you name it, but finding reciprocation is not easy. So this is one man’s journey- one man’s journey for trust. There’s nothing like meeting a complete stranger and developing a trust.

My journey to this moment in life has been intentional. All of my work and effort: purchasing a house- paying it off at 26, enrolling in graduate school- soon to have a PhD, living a healthy lifestyle- running marathons, starting my own business- saving for life experiences, for travel: this has all been intentional. My drive, my willingness to try, my unrequited love for life; that’s what got me here. I’ve always wanted to share this journey with others- for others to trust me on this journey. World travel is a journey I often hear individuals purport to desire, but often do not have the means to achieve, so I have decided to have you all join me here.

The day is January 9th, 2015: I am returning home late from a week long excursion in Payson, Arizona at a retreat called Tonto Creek Camp. At the retreat, I am participating in a diversity event with an organization called CollegeTownASU. During this event, a sentiment was uttered that emboldened what I had already determined was going to be my life mission, “live life to the fullest”. It’s a simple enough cliché. I hear it all the time.

The night is Friday, my bus arrives in Tempe, Arizona late. It’s about eight PM. The plan is for me to see some friends at San Tan Brewery at eight PM. I’m late. Catching up with them is amazing. They agree to join me for a hot air balloon excursion in February.

Next day, Saturday, my friend Tyler Lovelady informs me that he is going to Manhattan, New York for some job interviews. Sunday I purchase my ticket, Monday my plane departs.

Sitting on the ground in Phoenix, I am overwhelmed by a sense of comfort, belonging, and place. I am eager to depart and start my adventure in New York. Having planned absolutely nothing in advance, this trip is the epitome of spontaneity. I look over at my friend Tyler. This trip is anything but spontaneous to him. This trip has been anticipated for months. There is an agony, an anxiety about this trip. Tyler is a lot like me. He grew up in Arizona, attended a high school close to mine, lost his place in the valley of the sun. He left for a while to work at a hotel in Wyoming, to become a ski instructor in Colorado, to escape the isolation of suburban sprawl. This trip is for a job that potentially locates him in New York, locates him away from Arizona, and locates him closer to a female he has been courting via text for some months. This trip is anything but spontaneous to him.

Sitting in the plane, I look over, and I’m forced to confront this dichotomy. I appreciate the freedom I have to travel with no plans; ready for discovery.

Once in New York, when I depart the plane, a cold brushes over me; takes my breath away. We find ourselves to a bus that will take us from the airport to Central Station. Our Air BnB is located approximately three city blocks from Central Station, on the 28th floor, overlooking the UN. The cost of this room is $85 a night. Walking through the hallways, I can’t help but feel as though I’m about to sleep on pile of shit located in a trash heap in the closet of a dankey back alley apartment. As I walk through the door to our room, everything changes. The scene of the New York and New Jersey skyline is absolutely stunning. Once I walk into the large apartment, I instantly step out. Tyler steps out too- onto the balcony and into the cold expanse of the New York skyline. The cold fades away and everything is warm as I stand there staring in admiration at the skyscrapers.

If nothing else, elevator panels give insight into the scale of the buildings around the city. Panels take up entire elevator walls- each floor having its own button. While observing the panel, on my first night in the city, I am aware of an underlying superstition that clouds the city- an ominous sense of fated dread. A fear of the irrational- I do not blame the inhabitants of New York.

The next morning, we travel to the UN. We do not take the tour. Inside, there is an exhibit of pictures showing war zones and destruction throughout the world. After leaving the UN, we stumble upon a unique work space with a garden inside.

For breakfast, I eat at a well branded coffee shop called Aroma. They have everything covered, down to the complimentary 1oz milk chocolate bar that accompanies every order. Here, I eat a flaky sandwich with pickles and eggs.

Then, we stumble upon the New York Public Library. Within the library is a photography exhibit about being in the public eye/ the history of photography called #publiceyeNYPL. Here, I got to look at tin types and stereographs. I also discovered that Facebook selfies are now officially an art form. The library contained many ornate rooms for specific interests, including many that were exclusive to specialists in certain fields. The construction of the library was very Roman inspired with lots of columns, staircases, and long corridors.

Making our way back to Central Station, we discovered a quaint shopping area that has many stores under the same roof. The stores were located adjacent to each other and stretched in two parallel lines facing each other. Customers are meant to walk through the store and purchase items as they make their way through. The shopping center captured the essence of the city- shopping in transition, purchasing on the go.

Upon entering Central Station, I am watched. The subversive sense of a police state is overwhelming. And it’s right in everyone’s face. Paranoia and fear are plastered all over the walls. It’s obvious, but we are so desensitized to it, so immune, that we go on without noticing. Cameras loom in all corners, armed guards stand under billboards warning people to stay alert and ready to report suspicious activity, the intercom spits out consumer anthems encouraging everyone to purchase the next line of shit to fill their overstuffed apartments, and overhead hangs the banner of human freedom and individuality adjacent to signs for a massive sporting event endorsed by the good ole guys over at J.P Morgan and Chase.

That night, Tyler has his interview with Karbone, so I have the opportunity to explore the city on my own.
Karbone (www.karbone.com)

On my own, I do what any fun loving music enthusiast would do in a major metropolitan city, I check out the local record store scene:

Academy Records:
A quint little shop specializing mostly in progressive rock and jazz. The mood here was pretty laid back. I did not have an opportunity to talk to the store employee, but he was busy assisting a customer and talking about music. The prices here were in the mid-range; a little more than I would pay, but I’m from AZ and rent is likely a lot cheaper outside of the city.

A-1 Record Shop:
This place is a pack rat/ record hoarders dream. The selection here of modern hip hop and R&B was unparalleled to anything I’ve experienced before (lots of hip-hop singles, Mariah Carrey, etc…). This place is perfect for Djs and had a diverse mix of music and thus drew in a diverse mix of customers. The employees here were laid back as well- they did not surround me when I walked in, but were eager to assist other customers when they had questions. Prices here, again, were mid-range and fair.

[Sign only says] Records:
This place had an awesome feel and had the heat absolutely cranked. The record selection was very limited and the small space made it more intimate. The employee was very nice and greeted me when I entered. The selection here consisted mainly of esoteric jazz and world music so prices were understandably reflective of their scarcity. This is the only shop that had a record in which I was interested (an original German press of Journey to the Center of the Eye by Nektar for only $30), but I decided against it due to condition and travel arrangements.

Second Hand Rose Music:
This place had everything- absolutely everything. However, I noticed a sense of focus on experimental and electronic from the late 70s and 80s (Fripp, New Order, etc…). Unfortunately, the employee there seemed a little uptight because she only talked to me one time to give me a hard time for taking pictures and had a sign plastered on the door telling sick people to get out. Otherwise, this place was simply fun to look through. All the records in the front of the store were in absolutely terrific condition. Unfortunately the prices here were completely off the charts. The asking price of some records here was easily five times the price of what people are asking for near mint copies online. As a person who frequently sells records myself, I understand the price range of many of these records, and the expectations on some of them literally made me laugh out loud.

Strand Bookstore:
Four floors of used books stacked floor to ceiling in isles nearly to narrow for two people to walk through. Their record selection was extremely limited and consisted entirely of new material. This is obviously not something that drives their primary business and is more of a second thought. Regardless, this store is well worth popping in if you are a bibliophile like me. For those local Phoenicians reading, think of this place like Bookman’s or Changing Hands Bookstore in the middle of New York.

Blue Note:
So, I attempted to visit a record store called ‘Blue Note Records’ assuming it to be a record store specializing in rare and pricey jazz records (look up Blue Note on eBay- for real). However, when I got to the store front and saw the keypad on the door and the lack of records, I quickly discovered that this was ‘Blue Note Records’-like, a recording studio or office. So, I’m sure they had plenty of eclectic jazz in there… being performed by musicians.

Travelling to record stores in New York, I discovered an immense amount of diversity among the music and the customers. Unlike Phoenix, every store had its own feel and selection which was a very refreshing experience.

After fruitlessly searching the entire city for a post interview PBR for Tyler, I return to the room to find him diligently sending follow-up emails after his interview. The interview is described as ‘a learning experience’.

The next day, we’re on the subway to the 9-11 Memorial Museum next to the One World Trade Center. From the ground, the building seems short in stature, perhaps no bigger than many of the other skyscrapers in New York. The One World Trade Center is not located in the same place that the original World Trade Centers occupied- no buildings are ever to occupy that space again. Rather, the pools around the Memorial are placed in the exact locations of the original towers. The walls of the pools have the names of those who lost their lives on 9-11-2001 etched into them. Inside the museum are the remains of buildings, vehicles, stores, etc… that were lost on that day. The bases of the original support beams were left on location to show spectators exactly where the buildings were mounted into the Earth. A beam that was used by those who were looking for their loved ones has become a beacon of overcoming adversity. Recording studios are placed in the museum to offer visitors the opportunity to record their responses to questions regarding how 9-11-2001 impacted their lives. Outside the recording studios is a wall that plays the recordings previously left by others- meant to serve as an opportunity to speak your mind to find some sort of inner peace. The paranoia left in the city during the aftermath is displayed, along with a timeline of events leading up to and after the attacks, and relics reflecting the zeitgeist of ‘post-911 America’. The core of the base of the tower is surrounded by pictures of those who died. These pictures surround a dark room with a glass floor, revealing the rubble of the base of the tower- on the wall is displayed the biography and information of every person pictured outside the room, projected one by one, day by day. This Memorial is emotional and not an easy experience.

Art surrounds the city. Leaving the 9-11 Memorial, I come across a trash bear in the middle of a park- made from bags of rubbish. Our next location is Chinatown- I decide that the easiest way to find it is to inquire with the locals. The first guy I ask is a sweeper working around One World Trade Center. After saying hello, he glances up, glazed over, half-cocked- this guy is lit- absolutely cold stoned- his eyes are pink and swollen. He’s nice as can be- he has no idea where he is. He has a broom, he knows he’s sweeping, but that’s it. This guy barely knows which way is up. He informs me that Chinatown is, “That way (points left)… or that way (points right)… I dunno. I think it’s right down there (points left again). I dunno (chuckles).” I thank him and walk down the road. I find a guy that works for the post office, “he knows”, I think to myself. “That way- have a good time (points left)”. Continuing down this road haphazardly looking for Chinatown, I stumble across an Andy Warhol exhibit displaying original art pieces by the man himself. The man at the counter asks if I am looking to purchase a Warhol. I respond that I’d have to take out a mortgage on my house. “The cheapest one is only $48,000. It’s hanging right there. You don’t need to take out a second mortgage for that.” Someone clearly doesn’t own property in Mesa, AZ. I found these awesome Dracula paintings at the exhibit that reminded me of Blood for Dracula only with less bare cock.

Leaving the exhibit, Tyler decides consulting a map is likely the best way to get us to Chinatown. Consulting the map in the first place would have never gotten us to the Andy Warhol exhibit; however, it was 30F outside, so we figured using it couldn’t do us much harm. Once in Chinatown, we looked for a place to purchase lunch. We searched for about twenty minutes before we picked ‘Tasty Hand-Pulled Noodles Inc.’, located in a back alley off the main road. The restaurant itself was about 15’ x 15’, so we got real cozy. The menu provided the opportunity to purchase noodles in whatever cut you like- the soup broth was warm and very welcome in the cold weather. Cilantro was provided in a giant plastic container so I got to go hog ass wild!

Our first Sustainability venture was with the New York Area Sustainability Group in Manhattan. NYASG is a group of individuals interested in bringing green/ sustainable technology and businesses to New York and the world. At this event, I got to mingle with venture capitalists, entrepreneurs, and other fan boys and girls like myself. Free beer and wine!!! Here, I learned about a few fantastic companies:
Mission Markets (www.missionmarkets.com)
Citizens Climate Lobby (https://citizensclimatelobby.org)
eRevalue (www.erevalue.com) look at big data to assess competitive value of regulatory and societal risks to optimize sustainable planning for companies. In other words, this company helps other companies track potential for sustainable opportunities in supply chains that not only conserve/ preserve the environment, but also adds to a company’s bottom line. They are currently hiring for positions in London.

The next morning, we make our way to lower Manhattan to take a boat tour around the city. As a child, I ventured to the summit of the Statue of Liberty with my parents, so I am complacent with merely taking a gander from the dock of our vessel. From the boat, One World Trade Center is clearly visible and simple to juxtapose with the other skyscrapers located within the city. The scale of the building is much more apparent from this perspective. The Brooklyn Bridge and some power plants were also observable from the boat.

For lunch, we decide to stop at an Irish restaurant called Mcquaids to grab a Sheppard’s pie. Tyler grabs soup and runs off to see an adviser at a local graduate school offering degrees in sustainability. I stay and eat my pie. The pie, of course, is a bowl of potatoes stuffed with vegetables and meat, and in my case, smothered with hot sauce. The plate is nothing spectacular and requires a copious supply of salt and pepper, but does plenty to warm my innards for the cool excursions to occur outside. The waitress is super nice and leaves me be for the most part.

After lunch, with Tyler gone, I am left alone again so I do what any loving space enthusiast would do, I go back to the bay to visit the Intrepid Museum (intrepidmuseum.org) that not only has a Hubble exhibit, but also has a space shuttle- the shuttle Enterprise (named after the Star Trek Enterprise). Although this baby technically never went into space, was used only for testing, and was more of a propaganda machine than anything- it was a real fucking space shuttle! They also had a Lego mural made with over 50,000 bricks. The Intrepid Museum also contained a number of rare and interesting aircraft along with a Lego reconstruction of the ship. Intrepid is an old war vessel that was last used in September of 2001 after the attacks on the World Trade Center. The vessel has a clear line of site to ground zero and was the meeting place for officials to plan the evacuation and containment of the area during the aftermath of the attack.

During my visit, I was determined to get a haircut at a New York barber for the ‘experience’. Walking into the barber shop, this is how I expected the conversation to go.
“Hey, I’m here for a haircut.”
“Here for a haircut?!? No shit you’re here for a haircut! How do you want it?”
“Shorter.”
“Shorter, what the fuck do you mean shorter. You fucking with me asshole?”
“I mean, I don’t really have a style, I just want it shorter all around.”
“A real wise guy, eh? Hey Lou, this asshole says he wants a haircut. Yea, he says he wants it ‘shorter’. Yea, what a riot”

This is how it actually went (abridged):
The day was cold, but the sky was mostly clear with only small moments of overcast. I walked into the barber shop and everyone was staring at me. I asked how long the wait was- they told me to hang up my coat, I was next. I worked my way to the back of a narrow corridor with about seven or eight people crammed in the back. The store was only wide enough for about two people to stand next to each other with their arms stretched out. With the barber chairs, it was just wide enough to walk through to the back. When I got to the coat rack, there were about twenty coats hanging on the rack. There was only one hanger left, crammed way in the back, broken- it could barely support the weight of my coat. I squeezed my coat onto the rack between the others- it sagged so far off the hanger I expected it to slide to the floor. When I turned around, I had to walk to the center of the corridor to my barber. He was in his early to mid- twenties, but his eyes were sagging, aged, and faded with exhaustion and lack of sleep. He appeared to be from the Bahamas. He was wearing a faded red barber jacket and a half-cocked smile. He gently coughed as I approached the chair.
“Hey, what do you want?”
“I’m here for a haircut.”
“How do you want it?”
“I don’t really have a style, do you have any suggestions?”
“You ever part it on the right side?”
“Yea, I’ve done that.”
“What about the beard?”
“Gone.”
“All of it?”
“Yea.”
(Starts cutting)
Me: “So, how is it living in New York?”
“It’s alright.”
“What do you do around here, in your free time?”
“I don’t have much free time. Sometimes it seems like the days are too short.”
“Sounds like they work you a lot here.”
“Man, this is my eighth day in a row. I have tomorrow off though I’m going to a spa.”
“Do you see yourself staying in New York.”
“No, I’m going to move back to Miami [Florida], I have family down there. I’m going to buy a nice property in Miami and raise a family.”

After my haircut, I walked out into the 30F city. For the first time since I looked at the skyline that first night, I felt warm as I walked about the city. I took off my hood and gloves as I made my way over to the subway.

That evening Tyler and I visit another sustainability group called Beers and something, I forgot. This event is literally drinking free beer and meeting young entrepreneurs around the city. I ended up talking to many people including a nice man from Mission Markets named Ken Marienau. Mission Markets is a company that connects sustainable businesses and business models with venture capitalists to help bring them to market. Our pleasant conversation eventually turned into questions about my plans after graduation and where I saw myself working. I was the least dressed person there, had no business cards, and no resume, but here I was, interviewing for my new job in New York- Ha! Ken brought up a technology of which I had never heard involving microbial conversion of coal to methane. This concept intrigued me so I looked it up- in a fair amount of depth during the plane ride back actually. Over the past 15-20 years, there has been extensive research into converting the remaining coal in deep coal mines that is difficult to harvest into methane gas. Ken also spoke briefly about an organization called Rocket 21 (www.rocket21.com/nyas-water). In Rocket 21, high school and middle school students of up to 17 years old are asked to submit ideas they have to solve water related issues within their community.
We also discussed Plan NYC Sustainable Waste Recycling (www.nyc.gov/html/planyc/html/sustainability/waste-recycling.shtml)
The last major program I discussed was an upcoming graphic design event called the Generate conference (www.generateconf.com).

Serendipitously, right after this event there was another sustainability conference two floors down called the Impact Hub. At the Impact Hub, individuals were separated into groups depending on the sustainability issue they saw as the most important or that they felt the most comfortable discussing with one another. My group was clean and deliverable water for consumption and agriculture. Our group was from a very diverse background: some people were very passionate about farming and tradition; one was from industry and saw the importance of for profit companies moving into the sustainability market (water free jeans for example); I, of course, work with microbial electrochemical cells, etc... We spent about an hour coming up with the problem we were going to solve- our list was ‘ambitious’ to say the least.

The last night I was in town, Tyler and I grabbed some grub at a low key diner. Tyler held up his bag, ‘I (heart) New York’. New York was an absolutely fascinating experience! I had not been in New York for more than a day since I was a child. Although I did get a chance to visit in 2014 on a way to a scientific conference in Boston, I did not have the time to stick around and really appreciate the city. Staying in the city for a week, I have advice for anyone planning to visit:

Use public transportation: Do not drive- it is expensive, pointless, and dangerous.
Download CityMapper or a similar App on your phone: getting anywhere in the city via public transport was as simple as plugging in an address. Using CityMapper, I felt like a local. CityMapper will even tell you how many calories the average person will burn transferring from one place to another.
Use Air B’n’B: Staying $85 a night for two people on the 28th floor only three blocks from Central Station is ridiculously cheap.
Don’t over plan it: give yourself time to be spontaneous and stumble across stuff. There is plenty going on in the city to be pleasantly surprised.
On the other hand, try to plan some events with local groups. There are meetups and events going on all the time in New York, so find something you’re passionate about and join some people in New York. The citizens there are very open and accommodating.
Perhaps as a subpoint to 1, 2, and 4; walk around. There is a lot to experience just walking around.
Do some touristy things, but make sure to take time to enjoy the ‘real’ city.
Say hello!

I absolutely loved New York and would return in a heartbeat. Honestly, space shuttles, battleships, statues, buildings, people, culture, original Warhols; shit! Why not?!? Talk to some people in industry- put yourself out there. New York has a lot going on and a lot of interesting people. As someone who grew up in Arizona, the difference in culture was absolutely outstanding. New York is a very diverse town with people from all over the world- much more so than Arizona. Seeing all of this culture constantly and living adjacent to one another was fascinating, encouraging, and an absolute blast to experience. People in the city seem very independent compared to Arizona. In New York, being in your late twenties is not only young, but very young. Many people are interested in building successful careers and have this as their primary focus. I can easily see myself spending a year or so in the city at an internship, but who knows. If you go to New York to be a tourist, I think you may be missing the point. This is not a city to look at the pretty flowers or sit on a nice ride- New York is a city in which to interact and experience first hand.