New York City

New York is still the greatest city in the world. 1) It demands excellence by way of unparalleled competition. Only the best play here, the best of everything, and if you can make it here, well... you can make it anywhere. 2) The diversity is unmatched. If you like homogeneity then don't come here. This is a place for all people, all classes, all religions, all languages, all perspectives and all lifestyles. Can't handle it? then get out of this, the closest thing to heaven, we have here on Earth. 3) Community exists. People crash into one another. Even beyond the social scene, you can meet a new friend/partner/lover around every corner. Human interaction is not forced or contrived, but actually a part of everyday life. I am grateful I can claim to be a part of it. Although I may never fully reside in one location throughout my life I can whole-heartedly call New York City a home.

Harlem

125th street. Harlem. It was here that my political icon Malcolm X delivered speeches, inspired a nation, and changed the future for people of color in America forever. It was also here, during my college years, that I could escape the environment of rhetoric saturated higher education and clear my mind. A walk down the bustling historical street was therapeutic, there was, and still is, a peace for me among the chaos. It was my last stop before heading to Newark airport. Like the those writing messages on the wall of the Apollo to the late Michael Jackson, I too said good-bye - to New York City.

Central Park

With my final few hours before my flight I headed north for a solo walk through Central Park. Everyone is rich here. No matter your salary, whether your a banker on Wall Street, a model on 5th avenue, a street vendor on 125th, or a law student all are equal here. All get to enjoy the best New York has to offer. The grass is green on all sides of the rectangular oasis. Softballs fly, books are read, boats float, and in all time passed leisurely. I miss this place tremendously when I am in the dead heat of Texas, when we are all locked up in-doors in front of the air conditioner, unable to enjoy community and the cool shade of a tree. It took me a long time to figure this out, but the true riches of New York are free.

Jersey Shore

The New Jersey shore of Amsbury, NJ is not the Seaside Heights version that was broadcasted over MTV while in high school. I jumped the train across the border to visit a friend/mentor of mine who now resides in the town. The entire area projected an Americana style - flags both American and rainbow hung proudly over white washed porches, lawns were tailored, and the flowers in bloom. With the sun high overhead the day was only lacking in fireworks to create a good old American summer afternoon. We strolled the boardwalk and I saw the Stone Pony - the dive bar where Bruce Springstein got his start. Good company, good conversation, and good food completed the American way. Don't believe CNN. Especially don't believe FOX. I have flown from west coast to east coast back down to the 3rd coast and the people of this country reassure me that our way of life is still in tact - it has just on the whole Changed for the better.

The New Yankee Stadium

They Yanks nearly always win for me. On this humid Bronx night they put on another show, sweeping the Boston Red Sox with a barrage of home runs to cap the final few innings. Beyond the game, the stadium is a beauty. It is more old school than new school in architecture - resembling the old stadium and recreating an updated version of the ambience of the old as well. What is lost in aesthetics is made up for in luxury. The field level seats are padded with tempurpedic like cushions. We gave our food orders to runners who would then return with the baseball fare in record time. The food itself (garlic fries, pastrami sandwich, chicken tenders) was in-cre-di-ble. It was the best baseball food I have ever had. On this, my first trip to the new stadium, with a full stomach, I had a peaceful experience watching America's past-time with friends of my past. Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" completed the great win, the great stadium, and the great night.

Corner Bistro

The burger that many consider to be one of the best in New York was a disappointment. I have eaten it previously, but on a college football saturday on which the main course is beer. Wanting to get a sober perspective on the meal I returned. Unfortunately, it wasn't what I remembered. Although I didn't discover a great burger, I did discover a stay-afloat talent. If this whole lawyer thing doesn't work out I might be able to be a food photographer for advertisements. Believe me, the picture looks better than the thing tastes.

Clinton St. Bakery

Clinton St. Bakery still serves the best breakfast in the world. The bacon is sugar coated and the pancakes moist. 30 mins before opening a 10 person line had already formed. It was only by luck that we found ourselves awake and pro-active enough to make the trip to the lower east side. It was well worth it.

Hollywood Friends

These are my A-rated movie star hosts: Conall and Hillary. New Yorkers by way of Ohio and California respectively. Both graduates of that U.S. president factory Columbia University.

Perfect Harmony

The beach is ordinary, the carnival is simple, and the food plain. Yet, Coney Island is one of the most incredible places I have ever visited. It is the people that make it special. The location hosts a collection of fascinating human beings. Wide ranges of age, size, color, weight, culture, and style are apparent. It is a bustling ant farm for any deity that might exist. It seems almost experimental, as if a mad scientist was testing the interactions between dissimilar subjects. The beach is overwhelmingly frequented by the working class, giving the whole scene an authenticity lacking among the meat-packing district types of the best parts of Manhattan. Each person is unique, blaringly so, and apparently disinterested in fitting a predetermined mold. My heart was filled by the sights that entered my eyes. I could have sat along the boardwalk and observed for the entire day. I soaked in the diversity until I felt had sufficient reserves for my eventual return back to de facto segregated Texas. It was a utopia, not because everything was perfect, but because imperfect people enjoyed a Saturday among one another in harmony. What an extraordinary place.

Nathans Famous Hot Dogs

All of this is still in my stomach. Its all there because we jumped in the Audi A5, scrolled the ipod to underground Houston rap, and jetted off to experience Coney Island. The chili-cheese dogs were good. The lemonade was better. The regular fries regular. The chili cheese bacon fries superior. The corn on the cob needed more butter and more flavor. You have to ask Conall about the corndog. How contestants eat 60+ hot dogs at Nathan's every 4th of July is beyond me. I feel like there is a sauna inside me, right next to a hot tub, and an ongoing fireworks show. Maybe thats why there are fireworks on 4th of July.

Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel

Brooklyn Bridge

New York Nights

In Genesis, when God said let there be light he/she created day; This was Texas. When darkness came it was night; This was New York. The perfect 24 hours might have once existed; Texas days with New York nights.

Neat

I take my scotch neat, with good company and good conversation. In Texas my Macallan has been 12 years old, but while in New York we do it 3 years older. What kind of difference does 3 years make? It has been 3 years since Conall, one of my best friends, my host, my scotch partner, and I have had the living room pre-game drink before venturing out into the night. The good time has been transferred from the 16th floor dorm lounge on the Upper West Side to a 15th st. luxury apartment. On the leather couches, ideas and stories are tossed back and forth, goals shaped, and the future envisioned. The venue has changed, but the game remains the same. Kind of like the drink, we are older - maybe a bit smoother - but still the same.

Change

Yesterday another extremely qualified justice was added to the Supreme Court of the United States. She is Latina. Change.

The High Line

An elevated rail line once ran above the meat packing district in lower west Manhattan. It has since been transformed into an elevated walkthrough garden. It is covered in artists, sunbathers, and New Yorkers out for a casual stroll. I have never seen anything similar on any other trip, and it is a place I had not visited previously. It is the perfect venue to pass time away, to counteract the productive nature of the rest of New York. Also, the expression "take a picture it'll last longer" has new meaning to me since getting my new camera.

My Barber Shop

Job interviews require three elements: preparation, a suit, and a haircut. In need of the third I headed to the edge of Spanish Harlem to my old barber Manuel. The guy is an artist with clippers and a straight blade. I hadn't seen him in nearly two years but true camaraderie is not lost by time. The salsa beats resonated inside the small shop while the buzz of the clippers played in the background. A steady flow of loyal clientele entered and exited, satisfied and better looking than when they came. It was so good to hang with my Dominican barber again and this time finally able to communicate in Spanish (Although, I still struggle to decipher their caribbean spin to the language).

Columbia University

I have walked through the center of these two architectural beauties countless times in my life, yet they continue to send a jolt of inspiration to my mind. How can one not have a desire to learn when living among these mammoth libraries? The columns practically demand excellence. For these reasons among many others, 6 years ago now, from in front of Butler Library I phoned my mom to send off my enrollment papers to Columbia University. It is a surreal experience to return to my Alma Mater - so much so that after only a few minutes I hopped back on the subway towards downtown.

New York Dog

These hot dogs are kind of like The Mets: really New York but not-so-good. Even so, they are a good value for getting an authentic experience and full stomach. Two Papaya King dogs with everything on it comes with a tropical drink. The processed meat doesn't scare me as much as the beverage. Multiple tanks resembling something you would see at a milk processing plant sit along the backwall to dispense the assortment of liquid flavors. I always settle on Pina Colada. Smoothies made in mass quantity make me weary. Yet, like a good traveller should I gulp the mystery substance down with a smile. Yes, this is a food post, but as I've discovered on the Travel Channel, no travel journalism is complete with reference to cuisine.

Visiting Home

I was in San Francisco for two weeks in July and toiled with the possibility of writing about the trip. I refrained but it has haunted me since. This is a travel blog solely, so the conflict is over whether or not I should write about places that I call home: California, Texas, New York. I understand that it is now considered fact there is an innate human desire to whisper sweet nothings to the public via internet (twitter, facebook, away messages). I therefore choose to succumb by expanding my blog to include U.S. getaways. With that disclaimer off my chest I can bring this site back to life, starting tomorrow. I'll be back in New York for 6 days for 30 mins of job interview and the difference in time spent rolling around with my favorite city in the world.