It isn’t clear yet what caused the elevator to break down, or why it apparently wasn’t equipped with a call button that would allow the trapped woman to summon help. She also apparently did not have a cell phone that could could have used for that purpose, either.
It probably also means that Ms. Fortaliza isn’t a claustrophobic, for whom three days trapped in a tiny, broken-down townhouse elevator would be one of the worst imaginable fates. If you’ve ever been with someone with claustrophobic tendencies in an elevator that experiences any kind of unexpected pause, or bump, you have seen their look of abject terror at even the thought of being stuck in such a small space — and that’s in an elevator in a commercial building, which probably is larger than the elevator in a New York townhouse. In fact, fear of being trapped in a stuck elevator must be pretty common, because a Google search yields lots of articles giving you instructions on what to do if it happens to you. One thing is certain: no claustrophobe would emerge from three days trapped in an elevator looking “calm.”
What’s your worst nightmare? Whatever it is, remember — you should always keep your cell phone charged, and on your person.
If you’ve ever been on the subway in New York City, you know it can be a frustrating, overwhelming experience. It’s crowded, and hot, and the trains never seem to run on time. In fact, a recent study determined that, in July, 72,000 subway trains ran late. That’s a hefty 32 percent of all subway trains on the system.
In short, one of the problems is that . . . well, the vast majority of the NYC subway riders are pushy New Yorkers. They’ve been conditioned through years of experience to behave in precisely that way in public places, whether it’s in the subway or ignoring “Don’t Walk” signs and dodging traffic on gridlocked Manhattan streets or cutting in line and getting into arguments about it. And their pushy New Yorker conduct inevitably delays the trains, contributing to the crappy statistics for trains running on time.
The MTA is trying to deal with the problem by having train operators be less tolerant of the arm in the door practice and by having people in the stations as observers, in hopes that riders under the watchful eye of the MTA will behave more appropriately. A platform controller quoted in the article linked above says, however, that even with the watchers, more courteous rider behavior “is not really catching on.”
Who’d have predicted that New Yorkers would continue to act like New Yorkers? If the MTA really wants to have the trains run on time, it had better come up with a better solution than hoping that New Yorkers act politely in anonymous public places.
We ended up at the Algonquin Hotel last night. It’s known as the location of the Algonquin Roundtable, where Dorothy Parker and the American literati of the ’20s held forth. It’s also known as the home of Hamlet, the house cat. There’s been a house cat at the ‘Gonq for at least 90 years -and I think they’ve all been called Hamlet.
This morning, Hamlet was guarding the front desk when we left. I’m not a “cat person,” but I think a house cat is pretty cool.
On this dank Friday morning in lower Manhattan, I endured the raindrops for a few blocks for a brief morning walk. When I’m on the road I like to check out the environs and see if there is anything interesting. This morning, my goal was Fearless Girl — the sculpture positioned directly opposite the iconic charging bull down by Wall Street.
“Fearless” is a good description of the young girl, but “defiant” or “resolute” might be even better. She stands fists on hips and legs firmly anchored, chin raised and ponytail fluttering in the breeze, but her face is very placid, without a trace of emotion except, perhaps, a slight smile. Fearless Girl is ready for anything.
Fearless Girl apparently has become something of a tourist attraction — although nobody else was around on this rainy Friday morning — but some people question what message is intended by her placement across from a bull ready to charge. The naysayers wonder is the juxtaposition is supposed to convey that women oppose rising stock values, or that Wall Street is anti-woman, or some other quasi-political/economic message. I don’t know about the intended message, but I did like the portrayal of a girl calmly facing down a dangerous bull that seems to be made wary of by her very presence and determination. It makes for a very cool picture.
Look, I’m a big fan of the Big Apple. New York City offers so much, and is one of the handful of special American cities that has a unique feel and spirit all its own. Normally, I wouldn’t even compare Columbus to Gotham, because it’s just not fair.
But now I’ve finally found something where Columbus has the advantage: Columbus is not steeling itself for the “Summer of Agony” in 2017. New York City, in contrast, is.
It’s supposed to be the “Summer of Agony” in Manhattan because there’s going to be a partial shutdown of Penn Station, one of the principal transportation hubs for NYC commuters, to allow for repairs because the station’s tracks are falling apart. (In fact, two recent Amtrak derailments are blamed on the crappy quality of the Penn Station tracks.) The partial closure of Penn Station means that thousands of people who get to their jobs via rail to Penn Station are going to have to ditch their long-standing commuting patterns and find an alternative way to get to work. And in New York City, there just aren’t that many other options that aren’t already operating at peak, or close to peak, capacity.
So what are people who commute from Connecticut or New Jersey or Westchester County into the City supposed to do in the meantime? Some people are trying to get temporary housing in Manhattan, and some employers are offering work-at-home options. But here’s an idea — why not forget the New York City scene altogether and move to Columbus? It’s cheap, it’s friendly . . . and you’re not going to find much agony here. In fact, if you shop around, you might just find a place that allows you to take a brisk, refreshing, stress-free 20-minute walk to work.
Sure, Gothamites might scoff at the idea of leaving their land of towering skyscrapers and 24-hour delis for a place out here in “flyover country.” That’s fine and perfectly understandable . . . for now. Let’s see how they feel about it after living through the “Summer of Agony.” A few months of soul-rending, teeth-grinding stress during a two-hour commute might just change a few minds.