NYC, Part 4

Thanksgiving Day

For Sarah, the day started at one in the morning. The kids had to be downtown at an unholy hour, with practice at four o’clock. If you want to see some of that, here you go. If you want to be surprised by the actual parade footage, you’ll find that down further down this post.

For us, the day started a little later. Actually, a lot later, since the alarm didn’t go off. The plan was to be downtown by six thirty so we’d be sure to get a spot by the nine o’clock start. Unfortunately, it was more like eight thirty when we finally arrived. Part of it was getting up a half hour late. Part of it was the ride into Manhattan. And part of it was gridlocked people. It took at least ten minutes to go fifty feet from the subway up to street level.

Once we made it to street level, we found ourselves swimming in a sea of spectators. Granted, this was not unexpected. Before leaving, I checked to see how many people usually showed up. The number was two and a half million. Using Google Earth, I made a quick measurement of the parade route. Roughly two and a half miles. Hmmm… that’s one million people per mile or nearly one hundred and ninety people per linear foot. Now I remember why I wanted to sit and watch this at home in my pajamas.

For the vast majority of humans, the Macy’s parade looks like this.

For us, it looked like this:

Worse, for Rachel, it looked like this:

I thought, “Man, do we really have to stand in this crowd, out in the cold, shoulder-to-shoulder, for three straight hours? Just to NOT see anything at all…?” Apparently, once you travel this far and spend this much money, the answer is, yes you do.

Eventually, the parade actually started. At least we could see the balloons go by:

Guess who was in the parade? Miley Cyrus. David Archuleta. Even Andy Willams. Think we saw any of that? Nope. But at least it proves my basic philosophy in life works: if you always expect the worst, you’re never going to be disappointed. Besides, who could have a bad day after seeing this go by?

As we stood about twenty or thirty people deep, we slowly inched our way forwards, averaging about one foot every two or three minutes. We didn’t know exactly where Sarah and the Bowie Band would be in the parade, except that it was more towards the end and they were the seventh of ten marching bands. My hope was that people would start clearing out as the parade went on, especially if all the famous people already went by. A few people did, but most, like us, were there for the duration.

After counting by ear six marching bands, plus a handful of subsequent floats, I figured we were near our goal. Months and months of training, thousands of miles of travel, billions of dollars spent were all coming to a head. I looked up, got on my tippy toes, and saw the familiar black, red, and white of the Bowie Band. This is it I shouted to Laura, a few yards a head of me. It’s them! “It’s who!?” someone asked me excitedly. “Nobody famous! Just my daughter!”

Laura, increasingly worried the moment might pass us by, asked folks, “My daughter’s coming! Can you let me through?” And what did those tough, unfriendly New Yorkers do? They parted like the Red Sea. “Go on up! Make way for mom! Her daughter’s coming!” Laura and Rachel headed right up to the street. I actually hung back to take pictures, since I wanted to get a good wide shot. “We traveled a long way for the next sixty seconds!” I told a woman standing nearby.

And just like that, there she was. Sarah holding her flag, walking by with a smile on her face and eyes frozen wide open. I actually saw her. And just like that, she was gone.

Now this is the part of the post where I had imagined I would show you all the great pictures I took or showcase some of the awesome video footage. Nope. I screwed up. Me, a pretty good amateur photographer. Me, a professional videographer for a number of years. Me, the guy who knows his cameras inside and out. I messed up the video and didn’t get a single photo.

Fortunately, others did, including NBC. Although you can barely make out Sarah, she’s in there. And this is what they looked (and sounded) like:

As soon as Bowie passed, we made our way back out of the crowd. We were rather tuckered out and sore from standing for so long. And given the fact we’d seen what we came to see, it was off to a Starbucks for something hot to drink and a wonderful thirty-minute bathroom line. Travel Tip: don’t pick the bathroom only one block away from two million people.

Thanksgiving Dinner

For our big meal of the day we headed toward the Hudson River for a two hour dinner cruise. We took the subway south and then walked the rest of the way. Here’s some sample scenery:

Eventually we found water and on the water we found a boat:

We arrived about forty minutes before boarding began so we had some time to kill. Not far down the pier was a bowling alley, the only thing open for at least a half mile. We weren’t exactly in the mood to bowl, but we did get to sit down and relax for a bit. (Not to mention it was warm. I was beginning to suspect that November in New York is colder than in Austin.)

Around 1:20 pm, we headed back to the boat, posed for the obligatory cruise photograph, then boarded. Remember Dinkleman? The little guy Rachel and I extracted from the reluctant claw game? He came along for the ride. Doesn’t he look happy?

The cruise began with some unnecessary entertainment. (Please, no show tunes.) But fortunately, we didn’t have to wait very long at all before getting down to business:

After eating, we got up to walk around deck and take some pictures:

I have to admit I’m mostly reluctant to post pictures of myself. I don’t have any rational reason behind this. It’s just the way it is. However, this is the rare mug shot that actually turned out pretty good. Yes, that’s actually me in front of the Statue of Liberty. I didn’t photoshop it.

While the Macy’s parade was certainly a big deal, the real reason we made this huge trip was on a plate drizzled with caramel and bedecked with whipped cream:

The pumpkin pie is what I live for each year. In fact, I’m pretty darn sure one of these Thanksgivings I’m going to fix, serve, and eat nothing but pumpkin pie. I don’t see anything wrong with that whatsoever.

Rachel was presented with her slice of pie, at which point she claimed she’d never eaten pumpkin pie before. I was a bit taken aback by this unexpected news and was wondering what the exact procedure might be to disown a child, when she said she’d try it. The first forkful hit her nose. (She claimed she was trying to smell it.) The next one was better aimed and I believe she actually tasted more than three pumpkin molecules. But alas, she didn’t like it, which tore me in two. On the one hand, I felt like we lost a real bond between us. But on the other hand, I got a second slice of pie.

You want to know the real miracle, though? I only ate half her slice. I kept thinking to myself, “Whether you eat one, two, or six slices, tomorrow you won’t be able to tell the difference. (Except on a scale.) So just try that stupid moderation thing you keep hearing about. You know, just for once give it a shot and see what happens.”

And golly jeepers, it worked!

After the pie, more scenery:

When we got off the boat we were tired. And although it was starting to get dark, it still felt like it was too early to call it a night. I looked at the map and suggested we head to Greenwich Village. It seemed like the right thing to do.

First stop? The apartment building from Friends. It looks different in real life. And it’s too bad the show’s over. I would have next headed down the block to Central Perk just to meet them.

The streets are pretty, though. I could actually live here.

If you have your own twelve to fourteen year old daughters, you may be familiar with The Wizards of Waverly Place on the Disney Channel. Sure enough, we ran across the real Waverly Place. It doesn’t look like the Disney set. I mean, not that I’ve actually ever seen that stupid show.

By this time we realized it wasn’t going to get any lighter or any warmer out. That, plus the fact that we’d been at it since six this morning, we decided to call it a night. Bus time!

I took a very long, very hot shower and crawled into bed feeling pretty good—mostly because the long-awaited day was finally behind us. I felt like I could finally RELAX. I drifted off dreaming about that New York pizza I still hadn’t gotten my mitts on.

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