ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (12-20-18)
Last Friday we went to the taping of NPR's "Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me!" radio quiz program at Carnegie Hall. We eventually made it to the show, which was very funny as always. But of course we first had to go see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. There were so many people around, I just knew it was going to be a madhouse.
We stop for coffee, and I pour it from their cardboard cup into my plastic travel cup, which I brought with me from home. You're probably thinking, well I couldn't begin to guess what you're thinking, but I hate drinking coffee out of a cardboard or styrofoam cup for some reason. A ceramic mug would be even better, and I like my coffee SO hot that I have to open my mouth during the tongue-burning process and fan cooler air into it before I swallow. Every other day a study comes out that says coffee is the best thing for you, and on the other days a different study says you'll drop dead if you have more than two cups. So I risk third degree burns and possible heart disease before I even get to the artificial sweetener, which probably causes cancer. If it doesn't, they'll have to re-think their packaging. Try fitting "Sweet 'N Low 'N Non-Carcinogenic" onto a 2 3/8-inch packet.
I wait a few moments to make sure I've survived the coffee, then we proceed towards the tree, enjoying the busy rhythms of the City during this most festive of all seasons. We can't get close enough to Sak's Fifth Avenue to check out the holiday window scenes, so I told my wife to just enjoy some of the other decorative windows on display. For instance, at the Verizon Store, they had a colorful diorama depicting a reindeer with a very good data plan. When we got to 50th Street it was SO crowded in Rockefeller Center you could hardly get near the tree. We should have gone to see it wherever it was before they cut it down, but for some reason it didn't seem important then. We're herded into the designated tree-viewing area by a combination of traffic barriers, crowd-control police and a border collie.
I saw an unattended knapsack cable-locked to a signpost. I gazed at it suspiciously. What were its intentions? Am I seeing something? Should I be saying something? There were three cops in riot gear ten feet away from it, so I assumed they had seen it, scanned it, sniffed it, Mirandized it and released it. I thought about pouring my cold coffee on it to disable it in case it was a bomb, but if it contained the cops' spare helmets or something, I'd have some explaining to do downtown. By the way, it would be convenient if they had another police station uptown so I could do my explaining a little closer.
I told my wife to be careful of pickpockets. I don't carry a whole lot of cash around with me, for the good reason that I don't have a lot of cash. So pickpockets, if you're out there, you could pick a better pocket to pick. But I lost my wallet once and it was a big pain in the neck to replace all the stuff I keep in there- as every guy knows, your wallet is like having a small filing cabinet in your pants. It's much more convenient than having a large filing cabinet in your pants, so if somebody makes off with it, I've got to get it back. First, we identify the pickpocket. I yell, "OMIGOD SOMEBODY STOLE MY WALLET!" And then quickly look around- the person who seems unsurprised by this is the thief. Well, it turns out EVERYONE in New York City is unsurprised by this.
Once we find the guy, we have to reverse-pick his pocket. I'll create a diversion and you get the wallet back. What could be the diversion? I know how to play "Flight of the Bumble Bee" by tapping my cheeks really fast. I don't think it's a diverse enough diversion, but I do it anyway just to show you I can. I'll keep things simple- I'm going to trip over the curb right at the guy and he's going to have to use both hands to catch me, and you snatch the wallet back. Just as I'm getting ready to go, two people trip over the curb, and it throws off my timing. What if he's got more than one wallet in his pocket? Whatever wallet I end up with is likely to have more cash, a better credit limit and nicer wallet-sized photos, so I'm not too worried about it.
Finally we're close enough to get a selfie. I have long arms, so I take the selfie phone and try to get a picture of us in front of the tree. Every position I hold the phone in presses a different button on the side. First, I've turned the lens around so it's facing the back of a busker in a Santa suit who looks like he might be trying to dodge a stack of warrants with the disguise. Then I launch an app that puts fluffy ears and cat whiskers onto the back of crackhead Santa's head. Next, I hack into the Equifax database by mistake. Meanwhile people are paused politely waiting for us to take the damned selfie. Finally a young girl comes over and grabs the phone. "Give me that, I'm a Millennial." And she snaps three perfect photos without any further ado. Then a fat guy enters the crowd three blocks away, and when the ripple effect reaches us we're forced out onto Sixth Avenue. Just as we're leaving two more people trip over that curb at the pickpocket area, and I wonder if maybe crime really does pay.
Last Friday we went to the taping of NPR's "Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me!" radio quiz program at Carnegie Hall. We eventually made it to the show, which was very funny as always. But of course we first had to go see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. There were so many people around, I just knew it was going to be a madhouse.
We stop for coffee, and I pour it from their cardboard cup into my plastic travel cup, which I brought with me from home. You're probably thinking, well I couldn't begin to guess what you're thinking, but I hate drinking coffee out of a cardboard or styrofoam cup for some reason. A ceramic mug would be even better, and I like my coffee SO hot that I have to open my mouth during the tongue-burning process and fan cooler air into it before I swallow. Every other day a study comes out that says coffee is the best thing for you, and on the other days a different study says you'll drop dead if you have more than two cups. So I risk third degree burns and possible heart disease before I even get to the artificial sweetener, which probably causes cancer. If it doesn't, they'll have to re-think their packaging. Try fitting "Sweet 'N Low 'N Non-Carcinogenic" onto a 2 3/8-inch packet.
I wait a few moments to make sure I've survived the coffee, then we proceed towards the tree, enjoying the busy rhythms of the City during this most festive of all seasons. We can't get close enough to Sak's Fifth Avenue to check out the holiday window scenes, so I told my wife to just enjoy some of the other decorative windows on display. For instance, at the Verizon Store, they had a colorful diorama depicting a reindeer with a very good data plan. When we got to 50th Street it was SO crowded in Rockefeller Center you could hardly get near the tree. We should have gone to see it wherever it was before they cut it down, but for some reason it didn't seem important then. We're herded into the designated tree-viewing area by a combination of traffic barriers, crowd-control police and a border collie.
I saw an unattended knapsack cable-locked to a signpost. I gazed at it suspiciously. What were its intentions? Am I seeing something? Should I be saying something? There were three cops in riot gear ten feet away from it, so I assumed they had seen it, scanned it, sniffed it, Mirandized it and released it. I thought about pouring my cold coffee on it to disable it in case it was a bomb, but if it contained the cops' spare helmets or something, I'd have some explaining to do downtown. By the way, it would be convenient if they had another police station uptown so I could do my explaining a little closer.
I told my wife to be careful of pickpockets. I don't carry a whole lot of cash around with me, for the good reason that I don't have a lot of cash. So pickpockets, if you're out there, you could pick a better pocket to pick. But I lost my wallet once and it was a big pain in the neck to replace all the stuff I keep in there- as every guy knows, your wallet is like having a small filing cabinet in your pants. It's much more convenient than having a large filing cabinet in your pants, so if somebody makes off with it, I've got to get it back. First, we identify the pickpocket. I yell, "OMIGOD SOMEBODY STOLE MY WALLET!" And then quickly look around- the person who seems unsurprised by this is the thief. Well, it turns out EVERYONE in New York City is unsurprised by this.
Once we find the guy, we have to reverse-pick his pocket. I'll create a diversion and you get the wallet back. What could be the diversion? I know how to play "Flight of the Bumble Bee" by tapping my cheeks really fast. I don't think it's a diverse enough diversion, but I do it anyway just to show you I can. I'll keep things simple- I'm going to trip over the curb right at the guy and he's going to have to use both hands to catch me, and you snatch the wallet back. Just as I'm getting ready to go, two people trip over the curb, and it throws off my timing. What if he's got more than one wallet in his pocket? Whatever wallet I end up with is likely to have more cash, a better credit limit and nicer wallet-sized photos, so I'm not too worried about it.
Finally we're close enough to get a selfie. I have long arms, so I take the selfie phone and try to get a picture of us in front of the tree. Every position I hold the phone in presses a different button on the side. First, I've turned the lens around so it's facing the back of a busker in a Santa suit who looks like he might be trying to dodge a stack of warrants with the disguise. Then I launch an app that puts fluffy ears and cat whiskers onto the back of crackhead Santa's head. Next, I hack into the Equifax database by mistake. Meanwhile people are paused politely waiting for us to take the damned selfie. Finally a young girl comes over and grabs the phone. "Give me that, I'm a Millennial." And she snaps three perfect photos without any further ado. Then a fat guy enters the crowd three blocks away, and when the ripple effect reaches us we're forced out onto Sixth Avenue. Just as we're leaving two more people trip over that curb at the pickpocket area, and I wonder if maybe crime really does pay.
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