Hilary and Theresa's Road to Nowhere: A Sign Of The Times

I have been complaining about the state of baby strollers for years now. I think they represent everything that's wrong with the world. They are big and ostentatious and unnecessary. Now they are being made by Gucci and Burberry and Pierre Cardin. Bigger is better, money is no object, and everyone has to have the "best." But forget about America's obsession with excess. These "doublewides" are downright dangerous. They crowd the streets of San Francisco from Pacific Heights to the Mission. And don't even get me started on Chestnut Street; it's definitely the most hazardous street in the city. Sleep-deprived zombies wielding lattes, cell phones and obligatory golden retrievers, navigate these mini-hummers down the block, leaving scores of dirty looks and sore toes in their wake. Don't get me wrong. I don't hate children. I have a child. And I used a stroller. But these things are ridiculous.

So imagine my delight when I saw the "no strollers allowed" signs all over New York City. On the Upper East Side and down in the West Village, the news for twins and triplets (thank you in-vitro) and their harried parents was not good. Even in breeder-friendly Brooklyn, the signs were everywhere. Hopefully this is a sign of the times; New York will live up to it's reputation as a global trendsetter and San Francisco will be a little safer by the time I return home.

While we were staying in Jersey, we tried to eat in New York City as often and as much as possible. There were two visits to Katz's, the lower east side institution made famous by that scene from "When Harry met Sally." I had what she had. And then I had it again the next day. We also made the pilgrimage to Grimaldis, at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. Droves of New Yorkers wait in line for over an hour to eat the best pizza in the city. "It's just Pizza!" someone shouted from a passing car. We also ate at John's in Greenwich Village and at Al Di La, the hottest spot in Park Slope, Brooklyn. But some of the best food on this trip came from the cafeteria of a Hindu temple in North Jersey. I ate the best dosas in my life and insisted on going back 3 times in the two weeks we were there. We were always welcome despite being the only only honkies on the premises.

New York City is intoxicating. The women are beautiful and fashionable and I love trying to get a sense of where the fashion trends are moving. It's blacks and greys and charcoals with short skirts and tights and boots with a flourish (to make them different than last year's styles.) We spent a lot of time visiting our step-mother on the upper east side and the kid's stores on Madison Avenue just kill me. I would wear those outfits designed for three year olds, many in back and drab olive. They were exquisite and obscene at the same time. And speaking of exquisite and obscene, I ran into Janice Dickinson on 37th and Lexington. She's a supermodel from the seventies and eighties who went a little crazy with the plastic surgery. I thought she looked beautiful, but scary. "Which would I rather be," I wondered, "old or scary? I'm embarrassed to say I'm leaning toward scary...

We had our dog with us this time, and the city felt different to me. I liked it; I gave me a sense of what it must feel like to live in New York City. Instead of doing the usual museum circuit, we spent more time walking around the city with the dog. We strolled in Central Park, Washington Square, and Prospect Park. Layla continued to be a big hit wherever she went. Our beautiful black and brindle mutt was especially popular on the upper east side; we suspected white guilt, but who can know for sure?

New York is also intense and fast-paced and aggressive. When I returned to San Francisco after spending a week in Manhattan last summer, "Bagdad by the Bay" seemed so low-key. There was almost too much space between the people on the streets. And everyone seemed so casual and relaxed. I really missed interacting with New Yorkers. It's not that I found them particularly friendly. Far from it. I found them subtly arrogant; the whole city seems to think/know that it's better than all the others. Once engaged, however, New Yorkers skip the formalities and cut to the chase. Since patience is not my strength, this style suits me well. I thought then and now that I could easily get used to living in this town. Still, it's even more expensive to live in New York than in San Francisco (NY is #1 most expensive city in the US and SF is #5.) And my goal these days is to simplify my life; to learn to get by on less not more. So I'm not sure New York is such a good idea on that front. And yet I can't stop thinking about the corned beef at Katz's...