Don't Worry, Be Jewish!

I am not a New Yorker. I have never claimed to be. But this weekend, I packed my bags and made the journey to the Big Apple - New York City itself. (Yes, you thought I wouldn't have any entries about travel, as I am somewhat land-locked to a small cornfield in southwest Ohio. Well, as fate would have it, you were wrong.)

A short flight and a terrifying cab ride later, I was on E. 80th and Lexington waiting for my friends to return from breakfast in Central Park. The smell of the city, the rush of traffic, the absolutely apathetic, gaunt faces of true New Yorkers clutching a designer bag that cost twice my college tuition and chain smoking some Marlboro's, all entered my senses. The sun beat down pleasantly, workers emptied their vans of fresh broccoli and carrots, or overpriced chez lounges. It was a beautiful day in the city. Minus the fatal crane accident in the city Friday morning.

For those who have never experienced New York, it is a necessity. There may be other places one must see - London or Paris, for instance - but, ah, New York. Not going to New York is like calling yourself an American and not liking baseball, or Republicans, or reality television. Bad example. But it's still a sight worth seeing. The woman I sat in the terminal with at La Guardia was on her cell phone, shoving jalepeno poppers in her mouth like a refugee and gabbing loudly on her cellphone to a friend: "I don't know who would want to visit that city. It's disgusting. It smells like stale hot dogs and pretzels, the subways are coated with germs, and there's homeless men on every street corner. And it's so damn expensive!"

Really, lady? Then why go?

Some of the weekend's events included getting horribly, horribly lost (we're talking crossing the Brooklyn Bridge lost) as well as the best Thai rice noodles in SoHo. Oh, and the Sex and the City premier. My friends and I were first in line. I'm not quite sure it was worth it.

Sunday morning began with grabbing a legendary H&H Midtown Bagel (blueberry with plain cream cheese) with a friend and relocating to Central Park. around ten, we noticed ... there seems to be a whole host of activity from roundabouts Fifth Avenue. Turns out, it was a parade to celebrate the 60th anniversary of the declaration of freedom from the British mandate of Palestine in 1948. First, the sounds of marching bands reached us, then bagpipes (?), then - most importantly - some girl singing Bobby McFarrin's "Don't Worry, be Happy," but with slightly altered lyrics.

"Don't worry ... be JEWISH!"

Quite amazing. I know New York.
I need New York.
I know I need unique New York.

Quote of the Day: "...and then i just looked at her, you know? What else is there besides New York? A lot of cornfields and fat people." - A woman on the 6 Train.