That Last Ball

I moved to New York City in 1969 to attend NYU as a mathematics major. It took very little time to realize that a career as a mathematician would be a high road, reserved for the crème de la crème and not for a boy from a small town in Connecticut who fancied himself to be a math whiz. I dabbled in other curricula, and in my third year, disillusioned, I dropped out.

I did various odd jobs, and by 1975, I was very underemployed. And bored. My Siamese cats were bored also. I purchased three small hollow plastic golf balls sold as cat toys. My cats, as they are prone to do, showed no interest in commercial cat toys, preferring to play with anything else, particularly things verboten.

Frustrated with my useless purchase, I decide to try and JUGGLE the three balls, but to no avail, reminiscent of my childhood, when I would occasionally try to juggle batteries taken out of a toy. But I was curious and decided to put closure to this childhood fascination. I purchased the only book in print on juggling at the time. In its pages, I was informed that a juggling ball needed proper size and weight and that, in a pinch, even the clichéd oranges would suffice. A trip to the refrigerator, and voila - my efforts at learning three were met with an immediate improvement.
Soon, I located the only juggler listing himself in the yellow pages: Jay Green, a jewelry engraver and professional juggler. I visited his studio in midtown Manhattan. There, he demonstrated his extraordinary juggling talents.  Right there, on that day, my love and romance for the art of juggling began.

Before leaving, he informed about an ongoing workshop in Wall Street. I attended the workshop regularly and discovered that there was a dearth of readily available equipment for juggling. I began making for myself, and soon a business was born. You can read the entire story here.
In a way however, I find that success stories, including my own, can be a bit boring; behind every success, there is always a story, and unless one comes from money, traced back far enough, behind every example of someone with more, there was a time with less, usually much less - Warren Buffett delivering newspapers, or Steve Jobs as an adopted child and college drop out.

In New York City, there are many failures, infinitely more than the successes. The city is built atop business failures. The plethora of retail store closings boggles the mind. Heartbreaking efforts, determination, and stamina against all odds with closures and bankruptcies nonetheless. Millions invested, millions lost. Beautiful retail spaces created, only to be ripped out months later. I see it every day. Often, the road to failure is as interesting and harrowing as that to success. But people need inspiration, not discouragement, and the details behind the failures, unless part of a longer road to success, largely remain untold.

Recently, rummaging through my desk at my office on lower Broadway, I found one of the original cat toy balls, shown in the photo. Sadly, it is the only one remaining of the original set of three, the other two lost or misplaced and not seen in years, a reminder that material success and personal good fortune are fragile and fleeting, as easily lost as gained. Perhaps a metaphor for tenacity and good luck in business, I have been hanging on tight to That Last Ball…

More on my juggling business: Luck of the Irish, Smile by Fire, Not Of Them, Please Rub Off on Me, Just Like Steve Mills, Think Big, On the Road, Really Smart Guys, Fish and Ponds, Kind Words, Signature, Spinning, Juggle This

Listen for the Drone

This street sign was pointed out to me by a fellow friend and photographer. It has created a small stir and is the perfect fuel for those who like to believe that the age of Orwell's Big Brother is coming soon or has already arrived. Civil liberties advocates are running with this, and the Internet is abuzz with articles and comments/opinions as to the seriousness of this intrusion into the privacy of civilians by the use of UAVs (Unoccupied Aerial Vehicles).

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Titillation of the Day 2

The Anonymous Shoe

Perhaps I should have a rule: if something in New York City is enough to stop me dead in my tracks, no matter how trivial it may appear, it is worthy of a photo and story. After all, it would be rather stingy to seek out photo ops and then, when something truly piques the interest of denizens of the city, share it only with other fellow New Yorkers, would it not?

Yesterday, during the evening rush hour, on a highly trafficked intersection of Spring Street and Broadway, I encountered this woman's dress boot and sock. Thousands just walked by it, leaving it completely undisturbed. But it was very, very perplexing. It seems unlikely that someone would lose one shoe and one sock. It seemed equally unlikely that someone would discard one shoe and sock.

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People Watcher's Paradise

On April 21, 2009, I wrote Rear Window, referencing the Hitchcock classic film set in New York City and my similar voyeuristic opportunity. I have the privilege of my office windows facing Broadway, and over the 21 years I have been located there, it has been a virtual Time Machine experience as the neighborhood changes, stores come and go, residential tenants move in and out, various dramas play themselves out, and marches use Broadway as the thoroughfare of choice to make their way to City Hall or the financial district.

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I'll Take It

There are big celebrities and small ones. If you're big, perhaps you will have your name in lights on Broadway, on a movie theater marquee, the front page of the tabloids, magazines, your hand or footprints on Hollywood Boulevard, or a long page in Wikipedia.

If you're a small celebrity or a big fish in a small pond, you take what you can get. If you are lucky, like I was, you may be asked to do a small indie documentary film (which remains in limbo). Or, you may find, like I did last night, your name on the mirror, upside down, in a dirty, graffiti-laden bathroom of a local cafe.

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Des Moines

It is no secret that New Yorkers top the list when it comes to arrogance and xenophobia. Perhaps one of the best visual representations is View of the World from 9th Avenue - if you are unfamiliar with it, see the photo and my story here. Even within New York City itself, you will find individuals who rarely go outside their neighborhood. For Village residents, there is a cliche: I never go north of 14th Street.

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World of Waiting

It may be hard to understand why anyone 12 years old would covet a book on calculus, but I did. I loved books and reading in general, but I also loved mathematics and was intrigued by the meaning of the long S of integral calculus. My eighth grade teacher explained succinctly that it meant sum. Not particularly satisfied, I desired the book to have for my own, however, I was told by my parents that if I wanted it, I would have to earn the money and buy it myself. It was $2.95 and published by Barnes and Noble. I saved my money and in time, came to purchase that book. I still have it.

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The Loneliest Number

Is one still the loneliest number? New Yorkers should know best - I was shocked to learn that 50.6 % (27% nationally) of Manhattan households are occupied by a single individual. Of the 3,141 counties in the United States, New York County (Manhattan) is the leader in single-individual households. The marriage statistics also deviate from the norm: in Manhattan, 25.6% of households are married, whereas the national average is 49.7%.

But, given the tenuous nature of relationships and the transient nature of the city, perhaps it should not have come as a surprise. And, the evidence is at my fingertips - on reflection, the vast majority of my friends and acquaintances are in single households.

The first thought upon hearing such a statistic is that of LONELINESS. However, a number of books, articles, and research are doing much to dispel the idea that living alone means lonely. I have excerpted below parts of a 2008 New York Magazine article. I recommend the article - the comments alone provide a broad insight into the thinking and experience of many New Yorkers who live alone.

Alone Together
 
Manhattan is the capital of people living by themselves. But are New Yorkers lonelier? Far from it, say a new breed of loneliness researchers, who argue that urban alienation is largely a myth. 

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Nice Camel Sweater

When you grow up under a very tight reign, acts of rebellion are small and narrowly focused. For me, it manifested in the rejection of all things light brown. On my yearly preschool clothes shopping trips, I would invariably be steered towards clothing that would be in the light brown family - beige, tan, camel, etc.*

I suspect that the palette was being pushed at me because it spoke calmness, safety, moderation, or neutrality. But I didn't want to be calm or neutral. I didn't want to be in a blue-color factory town. I didn't want to be in the suburbs. I wanted to be in the big city. Bright neon lights and bold colors.

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Instincts

I was a little uneasy writing this story. As a small business owner, I have a very strong feeling as to the key reason for entrepreneurial success. However, I have been reading pages and pages without seeing any validation. I did not find studying the key reasons businesses succeed or fail very useful - if you can think of any reason(s) at all, you will almost certainly find it somewhere in any one of numerous lists of key factors in failure or success. None will come as a surprise - right location, management, adequate capital, cost control, knowledge, luck, persistence, vision, customer service, growth plan, marketing, key vision, etc. With such an enormous number of factors, managing their interplay becomes an impossible task for any human being. How will anyone learn all of the key ingredients and the balancing act necessary to succeed?

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212 and 2:12

Many non-residents cannot fathom why New Yorkers tolerate so many extreme hardships, while life outside the city is in many ways so much easier and less expensive. I have created a category for some of my stories called Slings and Arrows, which illuminates many of these day-to-day dramas. In Dwanna, I told of how one new resident (who hailed from Tennessee) left nearly as quickly as she got here, even though she was ambitious, hard-working, and successful in finding a good job and housing. Her reason for leaving? Life was just too hard.

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Wonder Why

I grew up in a family with limited means. However, we triumphed through brute force and tenacity. My father, originally a woodcutter, once in Connecticut, worked a handful of blue collar jobs, often maintaining more than one job at a time. One of his brothers, in addition to his full-time job in construction, worked a second job - mowing grass on highways until 3 in the morning. Work defined a person's worth. Certainly this ethic has been a factor in my survival in New York City for the last 40 years.

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I Doubt It

The story behind 95 Bedford Street is befuddled. Not astounding, really, because no one wants to do primary research anymore. Actual pieces of information, misinformation, conjecture, and extrapolation are all blended together. Pieces are copied and recopied. Variants on all these mixings can be found everywhere. Good luck sorting them out.

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The Envoy Motel

My first big family trip was to Washington, D.C. at the time of the Cherry Blossom Festival. This was also the first large city I was to explore and a major event that greatly influenced my desire to move to New York. Though only 12 years old, I had planned the trip, itinerary, and accommodations and even navigated the driving. I had mailed for brochures and maps and had searched our local library. I was so excited.

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Signs Were All Around Us

One of my best friends is a Brooklyn-born Jew turned Christian. How he got there is a long story, perhaps for another time and place. We have a long history, he knows my position, and although he does not proselytize, we do often discuss religion.

On one occasion, we spoke generally of whether or not I believe in God. I said that essentially, I am agnostic, and that I would like to believe, but I so wish for a sign, any sign at all. He responded that the signs are all around us and that I just don't see them. I am sure there are signs, but are they really from God or a product of one's mind?

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You Always Find Something

Some years ago, I was visited by a customer who was quite complementary to the manner in which I ran my business and the quality of my products. He had vocalized this on the internet. I thanked him. It is always heartening to hear complements in a world of high expectations.

Conversation ensued, and I was very surprised to learn that the man was a military helicopter pilot. I have no idea of what it takes to earn such a position, but I was reasonably sure that this must be a highly coveted and competitive job for the very skilled with the right stuff. This was an easy opportunity to return a complement, which I did. He did not deny my observations.

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I'm Throwing Them Away

I was a little disappointed to learn that according to a 2007 British Study of walking in 32 cities around the world, New York did not top the list of fastest walkers. Singapore bested the list, New York came in at number eight. Nonetheless, we got some fast walkers and we did come in fastest in the USA.

New York City is a fascinating smorgasbord of things to see and walking is a joy. However, I have walked daily to my current office location for 21 years. So at times I do get a bit bored and my mind wanders. I have always liked numbers and playing with them, so inevitably, I ponder the numbers associated with streets, blocks and walking.

I have often timed my walking. In Manhattan, there are 20 north-south blocks to the mile. A brisk pace is about 45 seconds per block. Do the math and that is a 15-minute miles or about 4 miles per hour. The pace of some New Yorkers is astounding. On a stroll last night, following a much shorter woman, I tried to match her pace. It was quite an effort and I am sure she was walking in excess of 4 miles per hour.

I have to walk through or around Washington Square Park to go to work. Having been a lover of mathematics, the prospect of not taking the diagonal is anathema. But how much distance and time do we save? I have about 15 minute walk to work, which has given me ample time over many years to do a myriad of calculations related to walking distances and times in the city. Doing these in your head is tedious and much longer than using aids but the time does pass more rapidly.

Washington Square Park is about .5 miles around. So the distance around the park (one length and one width) walking to my destination is half the circumference or .25 miles. The park is about twice as long as it is wide. So if A is the short side, 2A is the long. The total distance around is 6A. A is therefore .50/6 or 1/12 mile.

Now Pythagoras says: a² + b²= c². So now we have one side as 2A and one as A, so(1/12)²+ (2* 1/12)² = c². Solving this is rather simple - 1/12 ² is approx. .0069. 2/12 ² is approx. .0278. so c²= .0069 + .0278 = .0347. So, c= √ 0.0347 . or .187 miles.* So we save: .25 miles - .187 miles = .063 miles, or a little more than one standard north-south Manhattan block. So we save about 1/16 of a mile or one minute walking.

In Sirens of Convenience, I told about a fictional New York City character created by a friend who throws money away. At times, in a similar spirit of reckless abandon, I flaunt time and distance. Perhaps I stroll leisurely, enjoy the walk and just let that woman move ahead of me. With disdain for the diagonal, I'll just walk around the park. Distance? Time? I don't care about distance or time. I throw them away. In fact, here's 1/16 of a mile and one minute. I'm throwing them away :)

*Square roots can be done in one's head, but it is extremely tedious and requires good memory. Just start with a guess and through an iteration process, you can come quite close fairly quickly. Just don't get hit in traffic doing the calculations.

Related Posts: Steaming Masses of New York, Number 1, got math?, Sirens of Convenience, Keuffel and Esser, Urban Road Warrior, Babies, Winter Walks, Dead Man Walking, Math Midway, 1560, Huddled Masses

One Word 2

Perhaps one of the most prescient pieces of business advice ever given in a film, and certainly one of the most enduring lines in film history, is that which is said to Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate. In this scene, Ben is chatting with a few women at his college graduation party, when Mr. McGuire comes to take Ben outdoors for a serious private talk:

Mr. McGuire (to Ben): Come with me for a minute. I want to talk to you. Excuse us Joanne.

[Mr. McGuire takes Ben to the back yard of the house to the pool area.]

Mr. McGuire: I just want to say on word to you, just one word.

Ben: Yes, sir.

Mr. McGuire: Are you listening?

Ben: Yes I am.

Mr. McGuire: Plastics.

Ben: Exactly how do you mean?

Mr. McGuire: There's a great future in plastics. Think about it. Will you think about it?

Ben: Yes, I will.

Mr. McGuire: Shhh ... 'nuff said. That's a deal.


The word plastics has never had a positive connotation, always tainted in some way. At the time of the film in the 1967, there was a sense that plastics were part of the space age. However, it was also commonly used to mean fake, phony or artificial and hated by many, as author Norman Mailer said in an interview: "Plastic is the excrement of oil." Although not really a scathing work, Mailer endorsed the book Plastic: The Making of a Synthetic Century.

Today, specific plastics are promoted for their strength, performance and/or special properties in particular applications - polymers such as Lexan, Delrin, Kevlar, Teflon, Cordura Nylon, Gore-Tex, Viton, silicone, polyurethane, etc. However, when used generally, the word plastics brings up images of a world mired in plastic bags, bottles and other waste.

In today's photo, we have a solution to plastics recycling as well as rain gear, occasionally seen among the homeless in New York City. This man had crafted a very extensive wardrobe that appears to be extremely well suited for a day of predicted rain during a very wet spring. His possessions were neatly packed in bags, also made from plastic. Whether seen as a cultural metaphor, an icon of evil by Mr. Mailer, a promising future by Mr. McGuire or used as an impromptu raincoat, all agree on the importance of One Word :)

Related Posts: We Don't Do Windows, Released From Captivity, One Word, Rosenwach Wood Tanks, Caught, Canal Rubber

Electronics, Not Acid

If you would like to see hard evidence of the decline/death of print media, take a walk to 60 Fifth Avenue and see the historic 12 story, 122,000 square foot shrine to publishing. The large limestone edifice has always intrigued me. It is so prominent on lower Fifth Avenue and its Greenwich Village location between 12th and 13th Streets always seemed such an unlikely location for corporate headquarters for Forbes, most well-known for its flagship business magazine of the same name.

The structure was built in 1924 for book publisher Macmillan & Co. It was designed by architectural firms Carrere & Hastings, responsible for so many New York City icons such as the New York Public Library and the Frick Museum. Forbes took occupancy of the building in 1962 when Macmillan moved uptown.

The American Institute of Architects is not, however, so enamored with the structure:

For four decades, Macmillan conducted its publishing in this pompous limestone cube whose boring surfaces are embellished here and there with echoes of Rome's glories.

In 2007, during a much headier real estate market, Forbes nearly sold the building for $120 million ($140 million listing price) to Renta, a Spanish real estate company. By 2010, the market had declined substantially and the property was sold to NYU for a reputed $55 million. NYU will not occupy the building immediately - Forbes has a five-year lease-back agreement.

The sale did meet with community opposition as does every NYU property purchase. On April 16, 2009, in Gorilla and Cookies, I wrote:

NYU is seen by many Greenwich Village residents as the neighborhood 800-pound gorilla. Every real estate move it makes is highly contentious and seen by opponents as the act of an avaricious behemoth whose appetite for properties is never sated. Perhaps a new variant of an old joke might be: "What real estate does an 800-pound gorilla buy?" "Whatever it wants."

Limestone is commonly used as a building material, including libraries as well as the Forbes building. However, it is partially soluble. We worry that the acid in rain damages limestone and that the acid in wood pulp destroys the paper in books and magazines. We never saw the future and that the real enemy of print media and the limestone structures that house them would be electronics, not acid...

Good Connections

Connections was a BBC TV series hosted by British science historian James Burke. I enjoyed many episodes of this tour de force, each show exploring a nearly mind numbing web of interconnections, driving history and innovation in what the program called an "Alternative View of Change."

The prospect of living in New York City for many is intimidating. Apart from the costs, many feel that a person can get easily lost and devoured by a large monster, leaving no traces. There are countermeasures, such as making connections, which make the difference between feeling like an outsider versus an insider or a bystander versus participant. Friends and family are key, like anywhere else, to a quality life. Connections with colleagues, coworkers, business owners, etc. also aid to make New York feel like home and not the cold, impersonal place that visitors or observers may perceive.

If one is fortunate to have relationships with accomplished individuals, they can provide the personal connections to people and things that make New York City the great place that it is for advancement and pursuit of dreams and goals difficult to achieve elsewhere.

Those obsessed with brushing against the powerful, hoping mere proximity will bestow fame and fortune, will find any real benefits to these pursuits to be illusory. But when kept in proper perspective and for those with skills who can truly make use of opportunities, connections to the talent pool of New York City can be instrumental in success. It's not just the cliched who you know, but what you do with the privileges granted by who you know.

In the 1980s I was introduced to an exceptional graphic artist, Michael Samuel, whom I hired to do freelance illustration. On one visit to his office, I asked to see his portfolio of work - I was impressed to see the History Channel logo, something he designed while at William Snyder Associates, who used to work with legendary CBS television designer Lou Dorfsman.
The concept was something heraldic, royal and classic but not specific. I have seen this logo and billboard for years on my many trips out of the city. Every time I pass by via the Willis Avenue Bridge, I think of Michael, his exacting work and how lucky I was to have someone with his expertise working for my small business. He says about this logo:

One of the highlights of my career is this logo for The History Channel. Developed with William Snyder Design, this remains one of my favorites. Computer memory was so limited that each facet had to be saved in a different file. A relatively unknown station in it's infancy, this cable channel has become famous for their interesting and diverse programming. The 60 foot, 3-D, glowing billboard at the end of the Triborough bridge in the Bronx doesn't hurt either.

Be not deceived however, because in this city, talent is often found in the least likely places - like a man's artwork displayed on the roof of a building in the Bronx and most often viewed from a bridge or behind a chain link fence. I wish you good connections :)