Friday, July 24, 2020

12,999. RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,124

RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,124
(a vast otherwise nothing)
Having to do with that same
subject  -  the 'natural' aspects
of NYC  -  water always played
a large role in what I saw and
understood of NY. On many
levels. First was the whole
Croton Reservoir thing and
the huge engineering of the
aqueduct, which is still in place
way uptown, and which can be
walked now too. There's a
great book I read once, back
in Princeton, called 'Water For
Gotham,' that covers that perfectly.
The history of water in Manhattan
is an amazing. Let me digress:
-
Some of my best times, through
the early 2000's were my early
morning Princeton hours. Woodrow
Wilson is getting kicked around now
like a turd-football, but his house,
as President of the University, still
proudly stands  -  and don't let any
of those of today's Princeton snivelers
confuse you; they still revere him
there, treat his legacy like gold, and
are otherwise, generally, so full
of BS that it leaks from their pores.
His house, now, is called Prospect
House, and there's a wonderful
Garden there too. His wife had
originally set it up. Once a
pride of Princeton. Up until
recently, any Princetonian, in the
Administration, or the bumphead
student population, would have
proudly and gladly gone on forever
about it all. Even those crackhead,
student, 'tour guide' creeps would
rattle on about it all as if they were
his servant. (They're the student
reps who take prospective students
and families around, showing them
with high elation the sights and
places of the University, accompanied
by all their trite doggerel. I can only
wonder what these fly-fishers say
now). Anyway, I'd watch the early
morning gardeners, as I sat in the
plaza area of Prospect House  - 
just a few tables and chairs, but
of royal stature, overlooking
the Garden and, generally, east.
It was great for sunrises and dawns.
That's from where I read 'Water
For Gotham.' Quite memorable;
I guess which is why I brought it
up. Also, it was like seeing the
whole underside of the faux
elite trappings the place had :
food service trucks (Prospect
House, besides being open for
Woodrow Wilson history
walk-throughs, served as a
dining hall for faculty, and
card holders (such as myself!)
to lunch at). I'll interject here,
as well, about the unwholesome,
present-day, work situation of
Princeton, with all its invisible
hordes of daybreak workers
humbled in to serve and clean
for the Masters. The food service
workers and the gardening crews
were like the whole, unspoken,
underside, as I said, of the real
University,  putting aside all
their twisted 'white  and right'
hidden rhetoric. It wasn't known
as the 'Northernmost Southern
University' for nothing.
-
Meanwhile, back in Manhattan,
water remained the strangest thing:
a thousand small shopkeepers, each
morning, hosing down their storefront
areas and sidewalks; the entire Flower
District awash in 6am hoses, misters,
and sprays. A river of street-water 
running. The Fulton Fish Market,
in the very same manner, a flowing
Nile of wet, while people yelled,
as cackled, laughed and soared
amidst all the spray and smell and
that wet-thrash that only loads
of salty fish can bring forth. As if
the very land itself had been made
for water, and,  likewise, the water,
for land. That had become my world.
The Hudson, before its harborside
life was removed, was vivid with
the freight, cargo, and drayage of
a thousand things an hour. Where
travelers, steamers, and produce
once floated in and out, there is now
nothing there but the unending and
rigorous dotage of joggers, bicyclers,
preeners, and noodlers, dawdling
their varied Spandex selves across
a vast, otherwise, nothing.
-
Any person is allowed to smite, be
prideful, taunt, and strut. Any one,
or all of those. There's no difference,
BUT, there is a quality of extension,
some idea of tolerance, that others
have the right then to give back.
What I found happening with old-line
Manhattanites was mostly the pride
aspects; in the same manner as
Jersey Shore people scoffing at
Summer visitors for being 'Bennies,'
or whatever that word is that's used,
(short for benefits, or a reference
to the slang of the name, 'Bennie'?
Or reference to the $100 Benjamin
Franklins in their wallets, which the
locals greedfully do, eventually, get to).
By the way, have you ever ridden the
train up from the Jersey Shore line
and watched the behavior of those
same shore people on their touristy
way into NYC  -  loud, obnoxious, foul,
and sloppy?  -  hmmmm? Who's
a Benny now, I wonder?
-
In any case, the New York version 
of same is haughtiness and a sort of
self-righteousness about living 
where all is (supposedly) gold and 
rats don't swarm. Methinks, to reach 
higher, oh ye Shakespeare in the Park, 
Joe Papp, NYC types, 'something
 stinks in Denmark.'

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