RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,074
(someone getting fleeced)
I was about 9 when my
Grandmother took me up
to the top of the Empire
State Building. I don't
know why or anything, I
guess it was just the usual
touristy stuff, somewhere to
take a grandkid; any of that.
Train ride. Toy store. Lunch.
Little input from the kid (me).
At that point there's not much
you can do. I realize now,
my Grandmother was a
pretty savvy traveler - she
knew her way around the trains
and buses and connections,
getting back and forth to both
Bayonne and Avenel easily,
and New York City. These
occasional touristy trips things
we did were always odd; maybe
five times total. I can't really
remember much - Automats,
and walking around, and movies.
I can remember, I guess it was
Summer, 1959, wanting to go
see a move called 'Anatomy of
a Murder, but she said no, it
was for adults, and all that. All
it was was about police and clues
and stuff, I think, stemming from
a murder/drama. Probably with
romantic crap in it too, but not
sleaze or adult fare. I never did
see it; still never have. We ended
up more in kid's kinds of movies,
but those big movie palaces were
always so cool. Nothing like the
small and squared off 'viewing'
rooms they do today - these places
were high, and large, exotic and
reflected weird times and places:
Egyptian motifs, Middle Eastern
stuff. Thy looked like grand
cathedrals inside. Small balconies
and seats in small rooms that
sometimes jutted into the high
walls, 2 or 3 levels up; 'For the
rich people,' I remember her
saying. They were probably
private boxes, and the probably
did cost a pretty penny too. I
never saw anything like that
again until about 1980, when
I went to Carnegie Hall. I can't
remember what for though. That
place was lush inside, just like
I'm been explaining, but even
more 'posh' or 'ritzy.' It was a
world long gone - all those
Astors and Morgans and
Carnegies and all, they were
long out of NY's history, but
these places lingered. The
Metropolitan Opera House,
Carnegie Hall, etc.
-
So when I wanted to see 'Anatomy'
of a Murder,' we just kept walking.
We ended up seeing some cruddy
thing titled 'The Nun's Story.' With
Audrey Hepburn, I think. It was
like two hours of schlock about
some girl, all naive and virginal,
who wanted badly to be a nun
and because of that had all sorts
of personal moments and problems.
I can't remember, to tell the truth.
I was bored steamy and just ended
up hating girls and people like that
when they got all innocent and pious
and talking to God and thinking
God's all involved in their problems
and quandaries, for intercession and
all that. I remember being all bummed
and even the candy didn't help. My
sister was along too, on that trip. I
remember two things about it, but
I can't say where it was or anything,
because I just don't know. NYC,
somewhere. The first was, in an
Automat, I bumped into some guy's
little table, quite by accident, and
the hit of the table jostled his coffee
all over. I don't know what I was
thinking, but I didn't stop or look
back or anything and he got all
mad and started berating my
Grandmother over the rat kid she
was dragging around, who had
no courtesy to even stop or say
'Sorry.' He was right, but what
can a 9 year old do about anything?
I figured the guy was a crank, and
even if I was a jerk it was an
accident and I never did have
any manners anyhow. But I
really was sorry I'd screwed up,
and the guy calmed down. And
another time, or maybe that day
too, somehow, the story went as
it was retold, someone got into
my Grandmother's pocket book or
something, and took her money.
She had no money to get us
home with - for fares and stuff. I
remember, I guess it was old Penn
Station, being in this huge, iron
terminal, with all arched metal
and lunging ceiling and large
wooden benches everywhere,
waiting for her as she found a
way to tell her story to an agent
and, showing the grandkid(s)
she had with her, asking please
for a ride home, without a fare,
and she pay them back and all
that. The ticket agent gave her
some pass or something, and it
all worked, and we got back to
Avenel. We were always walking to
or from the Avenel train platform.
That's really all it was - a real
contrast to all that glamor stuff in
the city. The Avenel station, in those
days did at least have a shelter room,
on the Northbound NY side. The
ther side, heading south, was just
a bench width shelter, like an
open-fronted protection, or a
lean-to. That's all gone now.
All that old wooden stuff had
rotted away by the 1970's and fell
into disuse and was removed.
Long before that, in the late
1800's, where the lumber yard
is now there actually had been
a classy, big house that was the
real train station - indoors,
ticket agent, AND the lending
library was in there too. But,
anyway, that whole design of
living and living spaces was
gone by the 1940's, and now
it's all just crap.
-
When we did get to the top of
the Empire State Building, I
was farily unimpressed too. It
was more protected and glassed
than I figured, with like a crazy
half-fence along the edge, I
guess in case of nut-case jumpers
and escapees. There was a bunch
of those 10 cent, or maybe a
nickel even, sight-glass magnifier
things that looked like weird
space heads. But I wasn't really
tall enough anyway for any of
that, and wasn't that much
interested either. The height
was pretty cool, and the close
vistas for the street and buildings
around were really intriguing.
There were plenty of other
people too - other kinds of
Americans, from other places.
Tophats, odd clothes. Glasses
like TV dweebs wore. And there
were some foreigners too, with
the different languages - they'd
point and talk, with fancier cameras
and guidebooks and stuff. I
always like seeing them. And,
also, there were attendants, in
Empire State Building jackets,
with emblems and all. They were
an odd bunch, probably getting
a buck an hour, just watching
people, making sure no one
got sick, or tried jumping, or
broke the line and all. Pickpockets,
too : I figured they always watched
for them. You don't hear much
about pickpockets anymore, and
people do so many other things
and so many different kinds of
bags and objects now, but a
pickpocket, in the 1950's, was
a big deal, and lots of warnings
were up for people to watch out.
I still never can figure how people
wouldn't know someone was in
their pocket, or taking their
watch or wallet, or whatever,
but I guess it happened, and,
yeah, my Grandmother, that
day, was a perfect example
of someone getting fleeced.
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