First and foremost, Happy Thanksgiving to our vibrant and wonderful Brooklyn Based community! In what has been an objectively grim year, capped off with one of the more unsettling political developments in the modern era, feeling “thankful” hasn’t been top of mind of late, but know that our appreciation for you, our loyal readers, has never flagged. We are endlessly grateful for your continued support and for the opportunity to share our stories, tips, events, and news about our beloved borough with you. We wish you peace, joy, and relaxation this Thanksgiving weekend.
In the spirit of the season, we have to admit that despite all of the downers occasioned upon us recently, there are loads of other things to be thankful for too, and these sometimes come from the most unexpected places. Take this example: On a particularly grumpy morning last week, I was cursing all aspects of my life as I pushed on to a crowded R train to make my way into the city. The most enjoyable part of my morning ritual is when I get to fold my NYT Arts section into quadrants and dive into the crossword puzzle, which transports me from a lurching, smelly subway commute into a fun-for-a-dork-like-me exercise in word play. This particular morning, though, it seemed that there was a vast conspiracy afoot to prevent me from being able to concentrate on my comforting little grid and its clues for more than 10 seconds at a time. Among the characters I encountered: a woman in a coat evidently made of Shi-Tzus who was playing Bejeweled at full volume on her iPhone, a group of teenagers for whom yelling expletives on a crowded subway was apparently the apex of comedy, and a man standing near me whose breath, to put it as succinctly as possible, sucked. Just when I was considering whether to ratchet up my passive aggressive paper rustling and eye-rolling to out-and-out glaring, I heard from the other end of the car the unmistakable strumming that all New Yorkers know will inevitably be followed by a “Ladies and Gentlemen. . .” and some sort of inescapable “show” that no one wants or needs at 7:30am. “Are you f’ing kidding me?,” I thought to myself as my irritability levels rose to an unprecedented high and I steeled myself to perpetrate a bonanza of audible sighing and muttering.
But then something crazy happened happened. The busker, a petite man with an unnaturally cheery disposition, broke out into an infectious, rollicking rendition of Rockin’ Robin that was actually pretty great, complete with well-placed tap dancing routines, skillful crowdwork, and a megawatt smile that made it impossible to look away. Suddenly I was smiling too, not to mention tapping my foot with the beat—we all were—and as the guy took us all the way over the Manhattan Bridge, the mood in the car full of hardened NYC subway commuters shifted seismically. People took out their earbuds to listen, the hipsterish dude next to me said incredulously, “This guy is really good,” and even the surly, cursing teens put some loose change into our entertainer’s hat. By the time a group of us got off at Union Square, we were all looking each other in the eye, smiling, and saying things like “have a good day” to total strangers. I had been depressed for days about the looming Trump presidency and his increasingly disturbing picks for top positions in his administration, but that day I basically skipped into work. And I was reminded of something important, which is that no matter how awful it gets, it is never bad enough to extinguish the power of the limitless reserve of talent, beauty, diversity, decency, and common experience that we are blessed to encounter in our lives.
Because this Ideal Week includes Thanksgiving and a long weekend where we assume that lots of you will be out of town or otherwise occupied with family and friends, we are skipping our normal day-by-day roundup of events and activities this time around in favor of a brief list of things for which we are feeling extra thankful this year. (more…)
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