Sunday, November 29, 2015

November 3rd - Second day of two. NYC.

And now I know
Spanish Harlem are not just pretty words to say
I thought I knew
But now I know that rose trees never grow
In New York City

Until you've seen this trash can dream come true
You stand at the edge while people run you through
And I thank the Lord
There's people out there like you
I thank the Lord there's people out there like you

While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say good morning to the night
For unless they see the sky
But they can't and that is why
They know not if it's dark outside or light

This Broadway's got
It's got a lot of songs to sing
If I knew the tunes I might join in
I'll go my way alone
Grow my own, my own seeds shall be sown, in New York City

Subway's no way for a good man to go down
Rich man can ride and the hobo he can drown
And I thank the Lord for the people I have found
I thank the Lord for the people I have found

While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say good morning to the night
For unless they see the sky
But they can't and that is why
They know not if it's dark outside or light

And now I know
Spanish Harlem are not just pretty words to say
I thought I knew
But now I know that rose trees never grow
In New York City

Subway's no way for a good man to go down
Rich man can ride and the hobo he can drown
And I thank the Lord for the people I have found
I thank the Lord for the people I have found

While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say good morning to the night
For unless they see the sky
But they can't and that is why
They know not if it's dark outside or light
They know not if it's dark outside or light

Songwriters
JOHN, ELTON / TAUPIN, BERNIE


Read more: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mona_Lisas_and_Mad_Hatters


(I think this song is more representative of Taupin and John's impression from their first trip to NYC than any reality especially today's, but it's a favorite song of mine and my all-time favorite Elton John tune)

Diamonds and Rust - Joan Baez
Now I see you standing
With brown leaves falling around
And snow in your hair
Now you're smiling out the window
Of that crummy hotel
Over Washington Square
Our breath comes out white clouds
Mingles and hangs in the air
Speaking strictly for me
We both could have died then and there

- Songs like this never meant as much to me as when I found myself two years ago in Washington Square looking up at the surrounding hotels in SoHo.

Our second day this trip to NYC. Our foremost focus was to go up the Empire State Building.  I knew it would be great and I'd want to take pictures of everything.  Yeah, that's what happened.  There's a great introduction when you go in that tells the history and significance of the building as well as how it's become a model for modern energy efficiency.

When we came down, we stopped for a snack at the restaurant in the front of the building called the Heartland Brewery.  Sitting in the window, we got to watch the city go by and spend time just seeing the amazing architecture surrounding us.  From there, we caught the Uptown tour bus. We've never been up past the lowest part of Central Park, so it was all new to us.  Our guide was totally into the architecture and building styles.  Informative, I thought, but dry.  We passed the Dakota Hotel, residence and property of Yoko Ono among others.

Our tour took us up into Harlem, and past the historic Apollo Theater and was filled with the city's history.  It turned dark by the time we landed back downtown near Times Square.  We finished our day and headed home.


New Jersey across the Hudson

Concrete Jungle


The Chrysler Building

Tourists

Everybody always looks down.  Ape perch.

In the distance, The Highline Park

Manhattan - Business as usual.



Light and dark. Sunlight and shadows

Old and new





The entrance to the Dakota. Where it happened December 8, 1980




Who do you think is buried here?

The Apollo Theater - Harlem.


Street performer



A foine Irish lad.

ESB it ends where it began.  Goodnight New York.

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