After my personal debacle at Chicago the
previous night, I was determined to make up for it over the next two days. Some
big things were in store, things that likely required me staying awake for the
duration, so I committed myself to doing just that.
Gina and I had originally planned to walk the
High Line, an elevated park converted from a disused railroad line on the West
Side of Manhattan, but the prospect of doing that in 30-degree weather with the
wind gusting didn’t particularly appeal to us. Instead, we committed our
morning and early afternoon to doing things all tourists to New York City
probably do – though of course we don’t lower ourselves to those standards.
We walked to the 30 Rock building, the home
of NBC Studios, and saw the Tonight Show marquee that Jimmy Fallon had just lit
for the first time only the night before on the show. There should be no doubt
that he’s the most talented of the late night hosts. His interviewing skills
may not be the most polished, but his musical and comedic abilities, evident in
reoccurring skits or new skits he is willing to try, and his rapport with his
guests (go watch clips with Ricky Gervais or Fallon’s bestie, Justin
Timberlake) are unrivaled. Having a group as accomplished as The Roots as the
house band is a coup for Fallon, and they are a significant contributor to the
show’s appeal, as is the show’s announcer, Steve Higgins.
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| Ice skating, anyone? |
We took the obligatory pictures around the ice skating rink at Rockefeller Center, but were disappointed when we saw the famous Christmas tree had scaffolding around it and wasn’t yet in its full glory. We then marched onward to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, which also had prominent scaffolding as part of a massive, five-year, $175 million renovation project that will repair, restore, and clean the marble exterior of the 135-year old church as well as the stained-glass windows on the inside. Somehow we survived ten minutes inside the house of worship without spontaneously combusting or being set ablaze by an act of the heavens.
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| $5995 for these bad boys |
Don’t worry, though, everyone, the shopping in New York City was at its non-scaffolding finest. My aversion to shopping for myself is well-documented, but even I recognize the need for some new clothes from time to time. Two shirts from H&M later, a handsome red and black plaid number and a light grey sweater, I was satisfied, and it was off to Saks Fifth Avenue for some browsing. It has ten floors, which in itself was imposing, but not nearly as overwhelming as the prices for the merchandise found on those floors. Gina and I played a fun little game, one that you kids at home can play as well, in which one of us would find a pair of women’s shoes and then the other would have to find a more expensive pair. I was certain that when my eyes settled upon a lovely number that was just under $2,000 that I had found the winner, but Gina merely scoffed, saw my $2,000, and eventually raised me to a pair of diamond-encrusted, red bottom (that means something from what I gather) Louboutins for a mere $5,995. How anyone could afford shoes that expensive, much less physically walk in them, I do not know.
We continued moseying around Midtown,
stopping in Michael Kors, Express, Barnes and Noble, Grand Central Station, and
the ice skating rink at Bryant Park along the way. We had an encounter with
someone on the street promoting global female education in which I was forced,
hesitantly of course, to admit that I was with Gina and, indeed, supported her
in all of her endeavors, but I left the financial commitment to a young Nicaraguan
girl up to her. Gina had literally just bought I Am Malala, the story of Malala Yousafzai, a 17-year old
Pakistani human rights activist for education and for women who was nearly
assassinated by the Taliban, who had banned girls from attending school in her
native province, a few minutes
before, so I thought we’d done what we could for the cause.
From there it was time for lunch – delicious
burgers and cheese fries – before settling in at our hotel for an hour of
Family Feud with Steve Harvey and his pocket squares, and a quick nap before
our trip to Brooklyn that evening.
I went to Barclays Center two years ago to
watch Michigan play in person for the first time, and my obsessive fandom over
the years had been rewarded with an 81-66 victory over West Virginia. Michigan
started off that season 16-0 and would go on to appear in the national
championship game, in which they lost to Louisville, and after seeing them win
again in Lincoln, Nebraska this past January in a season in which they went to
the Elite Eight, I was hopeful that seeing the Wolverines in Brooklyn this time
would be a harbinger of success to come this year.
The night started off with an appetizer that
appealed to my roots growing up in Virginia, as VCU controlled their game
against Oregon from beginning to end, cruising comfortably to the victory. If
anyone in New York had more fun than VCU’s band that night, I would’ve been
amazed. Those kids were getting after it in ways I didn’t think a band was
capable of, ways that made me reexamine the shortcomings of my own life. No one
partied harder than the guy playing the tuba.
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| Won't be conference champions this year, sad to say |
Michigan’s game against Villanova, a matchup of two top-15 teams, didn’t start until close to 10:30, which is absurd. No basketball game played on the East Coast should ever start that late, but fine, I was just happy to be there. Michigan has played in New York or New Jersey in four out of the past five seasons, catering to their very sizable alumni base in the area stemming from the outstanding business school in Ann Arbor, and with the additions of Maryland and Rutgers to the Big Ten I’ll have even more chances to watch the Maize and Blue in person now. The arena was split probably 60-40 in favor of Michigan fans, even though the Villanova contingent had a quick drive up from Philadelphia. It was a great game, played back and forth for nearly the whole way, and Villanova’s greater experience and toughness showed as the Wildcats battled back from a small deficit in the final minutes and held Michigan nearly scoreless to close out the game and a 60-55 win. I was disappointed, and Michigan’s season since then has gone as far down the tank as the tank holds, but glad to experience that atmosphere and all the noise and passion in the arena.
The next morning, Gina and I battled the
elements on our walk to Penn Station to head back to New Jersey, where we would
celebrate Thanksgiving at her dad’s house. The usual jitters for a boyfriend
meeting the girlfriend’s dad were there at first, but quickly went away as I
was made to feel right at home. It was my first time eating fried turkey, and
along with all the sides it was a delicious meal with great company. Gina’s
brother Cameron managed to get through a meal without setting anyone on fire,
so that was definitely a step in the right direction. After dinner, the six of
us played a dice game called Farkle and a rousing comeback from yours truly led
to a breathtakingly stirring victory that left Gina speechless. Granted, she’s
speechless most of the time, but still.
I left New Jersey bright and early the next
morning to have Thanksgiving with my family at home in Virginia. We went to our
old neighbors’ house and had yet another fantastic meal – I feel confident my
obesity level has risen exponentially in the past month with Thanksgiving and
with holiday candy and lunches before Christmas.
