Uraniumfish

Although it is hands-down the greatest commercial district in the world, or maybe because of this fact, Midtown is just really un-endearing. I routinely see people come out of the subways in Midtown, looking around with wide eyes, and going, “Wow.” Yeah, okay, wow. I see why the lights and the hullaballoo can be breathtaking and exciting to someone who has never been to New York before, but it's really hard to maintain that level of enthusiasm when you live in this city. The day-to-day reality of Midtown kicks in pretty soon: unbelievable congestion, gawking annoying tourists who all say the same things and marvel at the same details, stylized and corny commercial detritus, over-priced food, over-priced drinks, over-priced everything. I've also heard the phrase “epicenter of American theater” used to describe Midtown, but this really scares me, since I don't think that what passes for theater inside Broadway venues deserves that name. It is much more appropriately called entertainment, and what scares me is that your typical tourist from the Midwest wouldn't know the difference. Trust me, theater is something other than what you would see on Broadway, but since the Marketing Department at the NYC tourist office tells everyone so, that's where they all go. And since I'm on my Midtown gripe, let me just say that few other areas in the city show off the shocking contrast between rich and poor in NYC as does Midtown. There's something about those vintage Beaux-Arts skyscrapers and modern glass and steel mega-buildings that just drips wealth and privilege. Meanwhile, if you bother to notice, you might see some poor guy offering shoe shines at the train station, or standing all day next to a hot dog cart and selling hot dogs at $2 a shot. If you look closely at the details in this mess of lights and colors and money and tourists, you might just get vertigo.

I have serious reservations here. On the one hand, who doesn't like to see the girls in their glitter tops and lip gloss, attended to by their boyfriend of the moment (and they all look alike anyway) strutting up for a night out on the town in the Meatpacking District. On the other hand, the sight gets old pretty quickly. The area has been called “New York's Most Fashionable District,” probably because all the mega-designers like Diane von Furstenberg and Stella McCartney all have stores here, and it's literally impossible to see a woman walking around in heels that are any less than 12 inches. They, like, throw you out of the neighborhood if you don't have the heel height here (No, not really, but it feels that way). I don't know about all that flashy fashionista stuff, and I really don't go for the nightlife scene, which caters to a yuppie crowd that wants to think of itself as edgy and hip (even though it is merely young and rich, not the same thing at all). So the Meatpacking District doesn't impress me much. But I do like the feel of the cobblestoned streets and the former industrial buildings, most of which really used to be slaughterhouses. And I love love love the High Line Park, which begins in the Meatpacking District and carves through Chelsea. I also really love jogging up the footpath that follows the banks of the river and the West Side Highway, but none of those things have much to do with what the Meatpacking District is famous for, which is flashy night-lifers and over-priced drinking. I do take some pleasure in the aesthetics of the ultra-luxury buildings that have sprung up in recent years in this area, all designed by brand name architects. Such places are literally dripping with flashy new-money money, but at least they are aesthetic and a pleasure to gawk at on an afternoon.

I don't really get Stuy Town or why these big, ugly impersonal city blocks would be an attractive place to buy a luxury condo. But apparently not everyone agrees with me, for this former low income housing community was bought by Met Life in 2000, with the intention of renovating the rental units for the luxury market and jacking up rent prices accordingly. This plan turned out to be a spectacular failure, as the original tenants resisted eviction, and the plan of converting apartments didn't go quickly enough to pay off the creditors on the purchase loan. As a result, the investors defaulted in January of this year, and Stuy Town is set to remain a rent-stabilized enclave until at least 2017, when it will finally be deregulated. Not quickly enough for Met life, though.

All in all, Peter Cooper Village and Stuyvesant Town are an enormous collection of red brick apartment towers that stretch from First Avenue to Avenue C, and cover the area between 14th and 23rd Streets. They are, and they look very much like housing projects, with about 56 residential buildings total. There are about 25,000 residents total, and the towers have their own “peace officers” who police the area.

Known as the fashion and manufacturing center of the city (and of the United States, for that matter) the garment district features some behemoth institutions as well: The Javits Convention Center, Penn Station, Madison Square Garden, Port Authority, the New York Public Library, and the central NYC Post Office, which until only recently used to be open 24/7. If you're alive and living in the city, chances are you've had reason to come to one of these institutions or other, and have been to the Garment District. I can't say it's my favorite place to hang out. While sitting on the front steps of the beautiful Beaux-Arts buildings of the post office and of the public library can be pleasant, the experience is seriously marred by the noise and smells of traffic on the streets. Weird fact: the AMC Empire Theater, one of those huge 25-screen multiplex theaters, is the largest structure in NYC to have been physically moved (in 1998). It was rolled 170 feet in a single day, after months of preparation. I do love Bryant Park, especially the always fun and always rowdy experience of watching free movies in the park in summer times, but otherwise this area gets a big thumbs down from me for its impersonal scale, noise, and unsavory characters hanging out near the entrance to Penn Station.

Lenox Hill is the part of the Upper East Side which is closest to Midtown. As such, it has the grand, ornate presence of the rest of Midtown, and the stratospheric exclusivity that are so typical of the Upper East Side. Since both the Whitney Museum and the Frick collection are in this small patch of the Upper East Side, I have frequented the area and become accustomed to its many upscale delis for a quick bite to eat in between museum visits. The Frick collection is easy to love for its sumptuous rooms, fountains, and world class collection of art, and the Whitney Museum, host to the important biennial of contemporary American art, is a place I often attend, if only to complain about the most recent biennial selections, which seems to be a popular pastime in the art world. I also truly love Ursus Rare Books, located inside the Carlyle Hotel. It has an incredible selection of rare books and first editions. It is one of those wonderful and stylish experiences typical of this area as a whole, to visit Ursus, browse through rare copies of Joyce and Beckett, or just ogle page after page of the art books, and then head downstairs for a relaxed drink at Bemelman's Bar to top it all off.

We can be grateful for many years to come that city planners more than 200 years ago had the foresight to plan a large public place like Central Park into Manhattan's quickly developing landscape. Who hasn't enjoyed a summer afternoon in Central Park? In 2005, the real estate value of the park was estimated at over 520 billion, and yet that valuable Manhattan space is entirely free and open to the public. The park is bordered on all sides by Central Park West, Central Park South, Central Park North, and Fifth Avenue, where some of the most expensive real estate in the city is located. Some of the most renown Central Park attractions include the carriage horses that are operated from Central Park South, the free, open air performances of Shakespeare during summer organized by the Public Theater, and the ice skating rink that operates during winter time. Central Park can be said to be the great equalizer of the city. Everyone goes there, everyone makes use of its many attractions, people come there from all parts of the city and from every background imaginable. The great dream that its creators had, of a democratic development that would provide relief from the pressures of urban living to all, is very much alive in this gorgeous space.

It does get worse aesthetically in Manhattan than Murray Hill, and it is called Kips Bay. Unlike Murray Hill, which is merely dowdy, Kips Bay just goes the way of plain old ugly. It's a high-rise extravaganza around these parts, and whatever the merits of the apartments inside the high rises, the neighborhood in itself is nothing to marvel at. This is not at all helped by a predominance of huge, faceless, personality-less institutional buildings, several NYU medical facilities, the Rusk Institute, Bellevue Hospital, and the Manhattan VA Hospital. I once saw a film, or rather a movie, at the Kips Bay Loews theater, and walked away with a serious case of the heebie jeebies. I am a true New York snob, which means that what I cherish most about life in this city is that it never, ever resembles anything I might find in the suburbs. However, the commercial strip mall known as the Kips Bay Plaza, with its Loews theater and its Borders bookstore, seriously offended my New York aesthetic sensibilities and made me want to run screaming to Times Square. So, yeah, live here if you really must, but as for your New York street cred, you'd have a lot of explaining to do.

For some reason Murray Hill has a reputation for being the dowdy, residential neighborhood among its more sterling and elite neighboring areas, like Gramercy Park. It's true that residence here is a bit less pricey, most certainly when compared with the astronomical prices of apartments in Midtown or in Gramercy Park. So it is a kind of middle class Mahnattanite scene, which by the standards of any other city would still be insanely expensive. I don't know why this is, but when I was looking for apartments in Manhattan, it seemed that the listings for places in Murray Hill always seemed to be the ones that looked really lame in photos. Does no one in Murray Hill have the typical New York stylish sensibility when it comes to apartment furnishings? This one was hard to explain. I don't see much reason to hang around in the area, since it caters to residents and their daily needs, and far less to a nightlife crowd: so, typically, dry cleaners and gym facilities abound. I see this place in particular as a residential option for people who are too snobbish about living in Manhattan to actually move to Brooklyn, but who can't afford “real” Manhattan rents. So, in other words, the insecure, upwardly mobile middle class. Maybe that explains the questionable furnishings?

Madison Square as a neighborhood per se has historically shrunk and been replaced by the Flatiron District. It is probably most memorable for the fact that Madison Square Park and Madison Square garden now bear its name. Although the park is the central focus of Madison Square, the current incarnation of the sports arena Madison Square Garden, confusingly, is not located in the area of Madison Square. Shake Shack, located smack in the middle of the park, and is a major draw for people. On summer evenings I have been astonished at the length of the lines for shakes, and the amount of time people are willing to wait to have one. The buildings around Madison Square are impressive and to me feel like true New York style: the Flatiron Building, the old Met Life Tower, and such. The sheer gorgeousness of the park, totally revamped in 2001, is worth a lingering look, especially in summertime. In the neighboring side streets I have ducked into one or another chic little restaurants and enjoyed cocktails or a glass of wine on long summer nights. Most such places offer excellent but pricey drinks, and you have the distinct feeling half of what you pay for is an ambiance of sophistication.

What makes the Village perpetually excellent is it small old houses on narrow-cobblestoned streets. Yes, it's true that Greenwich Village is no longer the bohemian capital it was in the time of Edna St. Vincent Millay, nor is it as hip as it was during the Beat movement, but it always was and is beautiful. Which is why it can't possibly go out of style, no matter what else gentrification does to it. And while gentrification has done its deeds here, there are still plenty of fastidious, persnickety keepers of shops that seem to so what they do right, in perpetuity. Some of my favorite food highlights, which all deserve their fame: Claude's Patisserie, Zito's, Murray's Cheese Shop, Faicco's Pork Shop, and the excellent high end Il Buco. The Village also used to be home to some amazing jazz and cabaret places, but what remains of the old hot spots seem to have diminished in liveliness and authenticity. If you can't afford to live around these parts, it can nevertheless be a gorgeous pleasure to fritter away the afternoons here in any number of great cafes. For obvious reasons I would steer clear of the NYU-student infested area around Washington Square Park, and head further up and West int to deep Village. The neighborhood used to be the site of a rowdy and colorful nightlife scene, but less recommendable for this in recent years.

Noho exists and I know because I saw a sign hanging over Broadway, somewhere below 14th Street, that said, “Welcome to Noho.” That bit of affirmation notwithstanding, I am suspicious of this area really having congealed into a place that has an atmosphere and style unique from the neighborhoods that surround it. The name feels a lot like a real estate invention than a true neighborhood, and I find it an area rather hard to quantify. Purists might just argue this used to be the divisor between Greenwich Village and the East Village, and why do we need to give it a special name? Just because the NYU kids have taken it over? One of its odd distinctions in my book is that it is an area much, much better suited to shopping at the major clothing stores than Soho is, especially on weekends. Why is that? Because every one of the stores that line Broadway in Soho, like Gap and Banana Republic, is replicated on the stretch of Broadway that runs up to 14th Street. And because you're not in Soho, there are just fewer crowds, and you can actually shop in peace, even on weekends. Another odd feature of Noho is that its center is at Astor Place, a place I would only experience while passing through on my way elsewhere, and hardly a destination of its own. I do love the gorgeous building that houses the Public Theater and the huge spaciousness of the lofts on Great Jones Street.

Tribeca, how do I love thee, let me count the ways--is it those big boxy buildings, the corrugated ceilings, the truly downtown attitude, or the fact of spotting Robert De Niro going to the grocery store? Yes, it's all of those things and more. You can find huge, gorgeous lofts in this area like you can't imagine, but to live in one of them, ah, perhaps you'd have to star in Raging Bull too. This neighborhood suffered some serious setbacks after the September 11 attacks, but was also the site of some major neighborhood revitalization efforts afterward. Two such projects were the Tribeca Film Festival and the Tribeca Film Institute, intended to draw the big-shots, and along with them, some big-shot investors. Another cultural draw is the Tribeca Performing Arts Center which focuses on new dance and theater work. Some of the huge thoroughfares, especially near Canal Street and the congestion off of the Holland Tunnel are truly hate-able. On the other hand, the piers and quietude of the waterfront views are worth falling in love all over again. Bars like the Danube on Hudson Street, a kind of Viennese confection with gold and mosaics, are well worth an evening outing even if you don't live in this area..

I'm somewhat in love with the Financial Center, though it is an unlikely love. What seems so striking about the area is its crazy drama: the sheer contrast of skyscrapers next to the solitary figure on the sidewalk, the wild play of light and shadows cut at vicious angles, the presence of glimmering glass facades of the modernist buildings right next to the extraordinary Gothic brickwork of Trinity Church. Home to Wall Street and the insane world of highs and lows that it conjures, scene of the shocking collapse of the World Trade Center and its perennial stream of tourist-mourners, I think of this place as the epicenter. For the rest of New York and also for the world. As such, I am never entirely at ease here, as if the area is haunted by its past. I looked at several apartments in this area a few years ago, and almost ended up moving here, and it's surprising to think how quickly the tourists and Wall Street types vanished in my mind's eye once I looked at the area as a potential residence. However, neither group, tourists nor suits, are all that easy to ignore, and if I lived here I would certainly consider their presence a drawback. The apartments I saw all had high ceilings and generous windows, and I really love the idea of being able to jog by the water every morning. Alas, so far this hasn't happened.

Battery Park City is altogether too tourist-filled for my taste, and I rarely spend time there for that reason. The draw, of course, is a thin ribbon of park right along the water, which offers amazing views of the Statue of Liberty, plus a spate of little memorials and tourist what-alls: marble benches, statuary, lush flowerbeds, and even the words of Walt Whitman engraved in stone in one place. For all of its drama, I find it a rather depressing place at night, and, considering its proximity to Wall Street and the gutted hole of what used to be the World Trade Center, I'm not all that keen on the place during the day either.

That said, Battery Park City also offers a stretch of newly built upscale residential developments that are certainly worth a second look. For what it's worth, the buildings are full of impressive amenities, and the river views and gorgeous esplanade just outside are nothing to sneeze at either. You can almost imagine the idyllic days, pushing the baby stroller around near the water, holding hands at sunset with your partner, serving that martini to guests with a dramatic skyline visible from your living room window. The only trouble with this lovely vision is how unlikely a place of residence Battery Park City seems. There is something oddly impersonal about the area, lacking in a feeling of neighborhood warmth and touches of eccentricity that one usually needs in order to call a place a home. It has the feel of ready-made lifestyle out of a box.

The Civic Center is a small patch of downtown Manhattan that encompasses some of the major municipal buildings. As such, it is a really strange place, one which you wouldn't really want to visit unless you've got official business or had a run-in with the law. Neither is it an attractive place to visit in the evenings, when it is nearly deserted and probably not very safe. However, some of the municipal buildings are beautiful and built on a grand scale intended to awe, so the area is worth at least one afternoon walk-through to appreciate the architecture. City Hall has a Renaissance facade and a dramatic interior hall with a circular, domed staircase. The Old New York County Courthouse at 52 Chambers is also interesting, with glass walkways, and the Emigrant Industrial Savings Bank building has an absolutely impressive huge hall. Other beautiful buildings include: the Surrogate's Court at 31 Chambers, the New York County Courthouse at 60 Centre Street, and the Municipal Building at Centre and Chambers. The Woolworth Building at 233 Broadway is also an exceptional sight. For food, your best bet is to head to Chinatown, since there isn't a lot in the Civic Center worth recommending.

One very vibrant and very interesting performing art and dance venue, Dance New Amsterdam, is located in the area at 280 Broadway. It seems an unlikely location, but DNA nurtures some of the important dancers and choreographers working in this city.

The street starts at Petrosino Square, crosses a piece of Kenmare Street, and ends as quickly as it began at Broome Street. Yup, it really is a street only two blocks long, barely a footnote of a place. But I like these kinds of tiny, eccentric little corners which make life in a major metropolis a thing of beauty and surprise. What's special here is of course Petrosino Place, a triangular bit of turf with a drinking fountain and some benches, apparently all newly built. For all my complaining that there's nothing to do in SoHo but shop, here finally is a little place for respite just a block away from the weekend crowds and madness, where you can rest your consumerist body and think about the meaning of life for just one second. Before you go back to the fray, you might also grab a burger at The Corner Diner (technically on Kenmare, but you just have to turn your head to see it) and then run across the street for some of Eileen's Special Cheesecake. Okay, and here's the real reason I wanted to review this street: go stand at the corner of Broome and Cleveland Place, looking downtown. Something about the angle of the streets aligning to make for one of those dramatic city views you can only find in New York. There are so many views like this opening up when you least expect it in this city.

A street only a block long isn't much fodder for a review, but that may just be the point with this one. The area surrounding it is walkable and beautiful and full of spots you want to linger and look longer. O'Neal's is on this street, a big, bland, restaurant-lounge. I don't know what kind of business it does, but I can't imagine it's so much as to really cause a ruckus outside. Then there are a few very attractive, very quiet residential buildings, one shop, a parking lot, and that's all, folks. On the other side of the street is the back of a huge beaux-arts style office building that houses the Chinatown Planning Council, and also happens to cushion the street from noise. So the interesting thing about Centre Market Pl is how very likely it is that no one has ever heard of it. It is a hidden gem where you'd be lucky to get to live, considering the location and the quietude together. The area surrounding it is so fantastic in so many ways, with Chinatown in one direction, SoHo and NoLita just around the corner, and everything within reach on foot in minutes. If I were in the market for real estate, I might go for a nondescript little snippet of a street like this, where you can live idyllically, right in the middle of everything.

Astor Place, the spot between Broadway and Cooper Square, is a place where people meet, mainly by “Da Cube,” the big sculpture in the middle of the square. Aside from a lot of skateboarders that seem to hang out there, you'll see a lot of people just standing and waiting, checking their watches. It drives me to distraction that the 6 train never seems to be running properly when I'm in the biggest hurry, and I have to jog down to the Bleecker Street station. This has been the case for years now. Years. Okay, but also at Astor Place and Lafayette Street is “Da Public” (The Joseph Papp Public Theater) an incredibly good theater for contemporary drama and performance, housed in one of those lavish old brick buildings nobody builds any more. The building also houses Joe's Pub, an important music venue. The Public's current artistic director used to run a smaller experimental theater, has ties to some of New York's more interesting independent theater groups, and as a result has done a lot to bring important performance work to the Public.

There are a lot of big chain stores clustered around Astor Place, such as Kinko's, Walgreens, and Kmart; right at Broadway you also have the Vitamin Shoppe, the Body Shop, Gap, etc. David Barton Gym looks more like a designer clothing store than a place to sweat, but to each his own workout, I guess. Cooper Union is around the corner on the other side of the square. The dramatic design of their new building is definitely worth a second look, from outside and from however far the guard lets you look in on the inside. A very prominent Starbucks at Astor Place does brisk business, and is an excellent place to exercise your people-watching skills. Not only because you can sit at one of the window seats and observe the passers-by, but also because its central location attracts all types--you wouldn't believe some of the conversations I've overheard, minding my business and innocently sipping my latte. That said, it's not a pleasant coffee experience—always packed, bathrooms are nasty—and you're better off walking in either direction away from Astor Place, to the cross streets, for good coffee places with personality

You either love the NYU students or you wish them struck by lightning, one by one, to the bitter last, but the street remains important to the area below Washington Square Park and its lively cluster of bars and restaurants—I think this area is called NoHo (North of Houston) and doesn't technically constitute Greenwich Village, but the nomenclature is fluid in such cases. You've got Zinc, the Blue Note, and Groove to remind you that this used to be a hot place to play jazz, though anyone with taste in jazz probably wouldn't go to any of these establishments. Why not? They're expensive and commercial-minded, and real jazz is being made in someone's basement somewhere anyway. But musicians pay their rent giging in such places, so if you don't know somebody who knows somebody who knows where the right basement is, you might as well go hear jazz in one of these locales. You can get great sushi, great crepe, and exotic cigarettes on this street. Passing by recently, I saw a guy advertising his services as he walked, by repeating the phrase “Picture ID.” It makes sense, doesn't it, that he would position himself on 3rd Street to sell fake ID's? With the great offering of bars in this hood and the droves of under-aged NYU students, he would be the obvious connector.

The Williamsburg Bridge is the last of the three suspension bridges to be built across the lower part of the East River. It connects Manhattan's Lower East Side at Delancey Street with Marcy Avenue in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Like the Manhattan Bridge, it carries both automobile and train traffic, and there are no tolls. It is a walkable bridge, though noise from passing trains make it less inviting and less poetic of a trip than a Brooklyn Bridge crossing. When it was built, it held the record for the longest suspension bridge in the world, but it has traditionally lost in aesthetic comparisons with the Brooklyn Bridge, and how. It is very much an engineer's bridge, with all of its features designed for functionality and no frills. The supports have been noted as rather ponderous, and John DeWitt viciously attacked it as “vulgar”, but keep in mind the beauty of the Brooklyn Bridge to which it is compared. If the Brooklyn Bridge did not exist, it is possible that not all that many complaints would be registered against the aesthetics of the Williamsburg Bridge, but good old “Willy B” is destined to forever be the ugly one, for as long as both bridges are standing. No one has written poetry about this bridge, no one has sung its praises like its more famous neighbor, but the bridge fulfills it original purpose well, which is to add an additional connector between Manhattan and Brooklyn, and to relieve traffic congestion on both sides. Commuting bikers appreciate the convenience it offers, and surely it's worth at least one crossing on foot, if only to be able to claim that you've crossed them all. It is a staple for the arty and green types who settled in Williamsburg and nearby Brooklyn neighborhoods, and commute by bike to work in Manhattan.

It's hard to argue against those brownstones. On the strip between Broadway and University Place, Waverly Place is nothing to write home about, and to my taste totally overrun by NYU students. However, the part that overlooks Washington Square Park and then commences into the West Village is a piece of real estate I covet longingly. The brownstones near Washington Square Park are just gorgeous, and almost all owned by NYU. I think a few are residential, though many are used as meeting places for various NYU organizations, etc, and there are also a few private doctors' practices. Waverly Place has rowdy spots, for example the above-mentioned bit near Broadway, and the part where it crosses Christopher Street, but that just serves to remind you that you are really and truly in the middle of the world, and surrounded by New York City legend at every corner. Who doesn't love the signature arch of Washington Square Park and the lively park hang-abouts in summertime? Who hasn't heard of the Village Vanguard for live jazz? Babbo and North Square Restaurant, both near the park, are pricey but excellent places to dine out. The street does a funny Y shape as it nears Christopher Street, and, confusingly, both spokes of the Y are called Waverly Place. Right at this complicated fork, near Grove, there used to be a tiny underground jazz place known only to professionals, but at some point the students found out about it, decided it was the next cool thing, and I think that might be a reason it's since disappeared.

Maybe because it's sandwiched between major thoroughfares Broadway and Lafayette, Crosby Street doesn't have quite as many shops as the surrounding SoHo streets. In fact, it serves as a kind of back loading dock to big shops operating out of Broadway, such as Bloomindale's. But this fact doesn't at all detract from the stylish beauty of its buildings, and the great pleasure of walking down this cobblestoned street. The quietude and less pedestrian traffic on weekends, compared to surrounding streets, probably makes it an ideal place to live. You wouldn't know it from the low-key facades of some of the buildings, but some of the residential lofts on this street are astonishing, with astonishing prices to match. The cross streets are where the real SoHo shopping and dining action is, so watch for the MoMA at the corner with Spring Street and L'Orange Bleue at the intersection with Broome Street. Housing Works is on this street, a second-hand shop that resells donated items and turns the profits over to charity. I often see photo and film shoots on this street, and no wonder: it's totally picturesque and sparse enough of traffic to make it an ideal location for shoots. Somebody please tell me what the “Center for Advanced Whimsy” is, if you ever find it.

Manhattan Island and a scattering of smaller islands such as Liberty Island and Governor's Island make up the county of New York, the single most densely populated county in the United States. It is also one of the wealthiest counties in the country, with average personal income above $100,000 per year. The original city of New York was at the southern tip of Manhattan, and expanded first upward on the island, and then outward to surrounding boroughs. The original Lenape natives told a visiting missionary that the name Manhattan translates to “the island where we all become intoxicated,” but in fact they were pulling the old missionary's leg and the name means “island of many hills” in the Lenape language. It was the center of commercial activity since the very first settlers set foot here, and also of greed and shenanigans, if you go by the stories that Europeans “bought” Manhattan from the native people in exchange for a handful of beads. Manhattan strongly re-established itself as an economic center in the 1980's, and it has been the site of several important American cultural movements. It is an epicenter in so many ways, both nationally and internationally. Many people remark that it is its own country, and by its very density and intensity bears little resemblance to the rest of the United States.

Fact: Manhattan was originally hilly swampland. Its distinctive skyscrapers are clustered where they are downtown because the ground underneath was determined to be capable of withstanding the weight of such enormous structures. The reason you don't see many very tall buildings uptown is because the ground is soft sand that wouldn't support the load. Fact: during the summertime epidemics of typhoid that swept through the city during the 1700's and 1800's, wealthy city residents would retreat to their country estates to wait out the disease, and then return in the fall when it had run its course through the poor populations in the city. Those “country estates” were located in what is now Greenwich Village, which might give a sense of how tiny a fraction of Manhattan's southern tip was actually populated at the time.

The Brooklyn Bridge is one of the oldest suspension bridges in the U.S., and it is also distinctive for the beauty and elegance of its design. Much beloved and much photographed, it is no accident that it has acquired iconic status on the New York skyline and among US landmarks. It opened in 1883 to much fanfare, with cannon fire, confetti, and thousands of people lined up to do the walk across for the very first time. The love affair hasn't diminished since, and you can see droves of pedestrians and cyclists doing the cross from Manhattan to Brooklyn on any given day, but especially in good weather. The lower level is for car traffic, while pedestrians use an upper level and can see down to the traffic lanes below.

Fun fact: The aerodynamics of bridge building had not been worked out at the time the bridge was built, and it would be more than 70 years before wind tunnels were invented. In addition, the contractor J. Lloyd Haigh substituted inferior quality wire in the cables, which wasn't discovered until after the bridge was built. Despite this, the bridge has withstood the years, whereas many other bridges built around the same time have vanished into history. Amazing fact: After the September 11, 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center, the bridge was used by people to leave the city after subway service was suspended. The massive number of people on the bridge at one time could never have been foreseen by the original designers, and yet the bridge withstood even this unanticipated test of its structural integrity.

The Manhattan Bridge is the last of the suspension bridges to be built across the lower part of the East River, after the Brooklyn Bridge and the Williamsburg Bridge. On the Manhattan side it feeds into Canal Street, and on the Brooklyn side it lands in the area now known as DUMBO (Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass), a former warehousing district that was recently overtaken by artists and now has become gentrified. The bridge sees car traffic on two levels, though it is one of the bridges where no toll is charged. It also houses the tracks to the B, D, Q, and N trains. The presence of the train tracks is an important difference to the Brooklyn Bridge, since it makes the Manhattan particularly loud and uninviting to pedestrian and bike traffic. The walkway and bike-way were closed for more than sixty years and didn't re-open until 2001.

Fun fact: the designer of the Manhattan Bridge later designed the infamous original version of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, which opened and then promptly collapsed in 1940. Wacky fact: there was an underground vogue in the late nineties, while the bridge was closed to pedestrians, for covert bungee jumping. People would sneak through the construction blocks at night carrying their jumping equipment, do a quick jump, and then clear out as quickly as possible, before the cops came. This is not an urban legend, apparently. Even wackier fact: it is illegal to jump from the bridge, for bungee jumping or for any other reason, so if you try to kill yourself and by some great luck survive the fall, in addition to the many other consequences you'll incur, such as severe injuries and a mandatory stay in a psychiatric ward, you will also be arrested and charged.

Morton Street starts out at Bleecker Street, and then does a pretty little curve, before it crosses Hudson Street, and then finishes off at the West Side Highway. It's at a very lowermost part of Greenwich Village, so the residential brownstones at its inception are gorgeous, with the small, intimate feel typical for Greenwich Village streets, and even ivy growing up the sides of buildings. Unfortunately, the idyllic charm doesn't last long, because Morton Street then crosses the behemoth of traffic which is Hudson Street, and suffers from the attendant noise and depressing landscape. Suddenly the brownstones disappear and all you're left with are freight loading docks, pretty much, and huge, faceless concrete slabs for office buildings. There's the Manhattan Developmental Disabilities Center, who claim they are “putting people first.” But when you look around at the bleak, roaring impersonal place that Morton Street becomes between Hudson and the West Side Highway, you have to wonder why they're “putting people” so far away from all humanity, out in the most depressing boondocks you can find. There's a lovely view of the river to reward you for going all the way west, but you really could skip it rather than brave the very dangerous West Side Highway traffic.

Prince Street means quality shopping, with Prada, Intermix, and the Apple SoHo store all being obvious draws. I like Ina Nolita for its mix of designers, and Paula Rubenstein for all kinds of stuff they have, a collection of interesting vintage furnishings and odd pieces with which to clutter up your living space. The perpetual sidewalk vendors don't impress me and just clog pedestrian traffic, in my opinion, but there is usually one guy on Prince who offers movie scripts for sale of all the movies you've probably seen. Never bought one, but just in case I ever need to know the exact dialogue to Raging Bull, here is where you find it out without strating and stopping the DVD player. Fanelli's is a classic New York bar at the corner with Mercer, with a history as old as your grandfather. You'll notice the wood paneling and corrugated tin ceilings, which are original details. Nobody builds like this any more. The owner is a former boxer, and the bartender really knows his business, with dexterous moves and a big, booming personality to match. The place is often full of European tourists, so I guess it's been written up in some destination guide listing over on the other side.

The Holland Tunnel dumps a lot of traffic nearby, so Dominick Street, with its anonymous, androgynous, and otherwise personality-less facades does not invite a pleasure stroll. The street also exists under the shadow of the Trump International Hotel and Tower, and you're welcome to think your own thoughts about that place. However, Here Arts Center is the delight of this little street, a place that functions as an art gallery, venue for independent performance art and theater, and seedbed for young artists to develop and show new works, all in one. I remember it in its humble first incarnation: the building was rather ratty and the people who worked there or hung out there, or maybe both, were so earnestly devoted to making art happen. There was always something going on, and although not everything I used to see was impressive, it was nevertheless the kind of place whose existence I could appreciate. Now they've renovated, and exhibit the kinds of video pieces in the lobby that takes some decent funding to be able to pull off. The quality of the work being shown on stage has also steadily grown, so that they have become a place of increasingly high repute.

West Houston is an IT street, so if you are new to New York, please do be sure to pronounce it correctly, not like Houston in Dallas. It divides SoHo from NoHo (aka South of Houston and North of Houston, yes a truly imaginative method of naming neighborhoods) and cuts a big east-to-west traffic line across Manhattan. Angelika is an important venue for independent films, and so is the smaller, but no less important Film Forum, some blocks to the west. Apparently, New Yorkers love their independent film, because on a Friday or Saturday night, the Angelika waiting area is packed elbow to elbow, and you don't get in to see a film without a reservation ahead of time. Houston is also conspicuous for the enormous, racy underwear ads on the sides of buildings, and for an informal kind of promenade around weekend brunch time of all the beautiful people in the world, picking distinctively at vintage furniture and clothing stalls set up along the street. Perhaps you never thought that there was such a thing as too trendy, but West Houston is too trendy. You have the feeling everyone is looking at everyone else, silently calculating shoe or handbag values. I appreciate the presence of the basketball courts at 6th Avenue, to bring a touch of the real world to this street, though I admit even here all the players seem conspicuously styled and attractive.

What a delightful place, this street. A personal favorite is Evolution, a store that sells such fun artifacts as whale teeth, taxidermied pheasants, incandescent butterflies mounted in glass boxes, and all manner of fossilized rocks. The street is also home to legendary eats like Balthazar's, the Aqua Grill, and Lombardi's. If you live in the area, Balthazar's has fantastic pastries, but then again so does the much smaller Ceci-Cela, and it isn't nearly as crowded. Rice to Riches is a dessert place specialized on, yes, rice pudding, and aside from an astonishing variety of pudding flavors they also have some cheeky signage. Space, at 6th Avenue, is a hair cutter's I've used and found excellent for the precision of their work. There's so much that's so good on this street that it's hard not to start waving my hands with enthusiasm when I talk about it. There's also a tiny basketball court at the corner with Mulberry, which is an important detail for the neighborhood kids and the local community. Spring Street starts at the Bowery and runs through Nolita and SoHo, and then loses fuel after about 6th Avenue, just where Prince Toupee himself, Donald Trump, has put up his International Hotel and Tower.

Something about Bond Street just strikes my eye the right way. Maybe I'm a sucker for cobblestoned streets and the distinctive industrial architecture you only see in SoHo, with that majestic iron detailing and enormously generous window count. Yes, and “majestic” is certainly the appropriate word here. The designer clothing shops are stylish in the way stylish is meant to be—just a tad understated and with the kinds of price tags that will literally quicken your pulse. Do I miss the SoHo mall-crowd scene in this two-block stretch of superb urban paradise? No, I do not. Do I want to live on this street? I want to do more than live on this street: I want to move here and make designer babies, really and truly. The only thing that stops short these wistful fantasies of mine? A certain new luxury development at 40 Bond that looks like someone had an accident with a box of brand name macaroni. No, I don't say this because I'm somehow un-artistic, but because the building is plain wrong in so many important ways, including the trying-too-hard category. I only wish the responsible parties had chosen to perpetuate this expensive piece of blight upon anyplace other than this truly, authentically beautiful street, which had previously integrated the old and the new with graceful ease. You have to wonder how Bond Street will eventually weather the developers, given something this tacky. we'll just wait and see.

I can't say I'm nostalgic for the days when St. Marks Place was overrun by barely-pubescent punks begging for change, probably so they could buy themselves more hair dye. Nor for the freaks and geeks atmosphere of walking down this particular little stretch of the city, and the high likelihood of getting in a long, rambling conversation with someone with bloodshot eyes and a slur. Nor for the reports of unspeakable deeds being committed at St. Mark's Hotel, though I can't vouch for the accuracy of such reports. Nevertheless, St. Marks had a very specific identity which seems to have disappeared overnight. Apparently, the Japanese have taken over St. Marks, and with a vengeance. You have your udon joints and your sushi joints, and your Japanese dessert joints, with tasty edible things in an assortment of pastel colors. You have your specialty Japanese grocery open all night and all kinds of knick-knacks and tourist kitsch for sale in stalls. You can buy bongs by the dozen and stock up on pot-leaf T-shirts. How did this all happen and why? One of those mysteries of urban development, I guess, though I'm not feeling entirely enthusiastic about it. Maybe I just need more time to get used to this much good sushi. A bit further on you can find the Yaffa Cafe, “Open all nite 7 days a week,” a place whose décor I can only describe as East Village gothic.