Extremely Touching and Incredibly Small World

My first trip to New York City came relatively late in life. It was the mid 90s and I was in my 30s. Living in and around Los Angeles, I always made at least one trip to San Francisco and other parts of Northern California every year, of course. But, New York…well…it was waaaay over there. Expensive trip.

I finally made it to New York City in December, 1994. It was a trip I didn’t plan, sort of a treat, and I was asked what I wanted to do. Since my paternal grandfather had come through Ellis Island, I wanted to go there, and to the Statue of Liberty which had been re-opened after she’d been strengthened and refurbished from the inside out. I’m sure I did other things on that first trip, but none were as memorable as the things I chose.

For the next several years, I was in New York City once a year. I learned to love Broadway, shopping, but mostly saw Manhattan. In 2000, I moved to Ohio which meant the trips that I’d made at least once a year to Northern California were less frequent, but the jaunts to New York City became more frequent. I went twice a year. I even had a timeshare there for awhile.

After I gave up the timeshare, and my eldest daughter moved to NYC, my visits became more frequent. I’d go and sleep in a sleeping bag, on yoga mats on the floor in her apartment. Or, I’d meet my brother, sister-in-law and nephew there and we’d stay in an older boutique hotel on the Upper West Side in a more residential neighborhood. I even drove there twice to deliver furniture in my SUV. Once, was after a huge snow storm that left cars buried up to their rooftops, vehicles double parked, and nowhere to park my own car, I found a spot in a $30 a day parking garage near my daughter’s Upper East Side apartment.

Since I started planning my own trips, I’ve explored the different boroughs, botanical gardens, and museums and have taken subways, buses, taxis, boats, ferries, and once, a Zip Car. In short, I love New York and never seem to run out of doing something new and different, while embracing some of the familiar.

Today I went to see the movie “Extremely Loud and Incrediby Close,” a movie about a boy who is coping with the loss of his father after 9-11. Having visited NYC and Ground Zero a couple of months after the attack, on Thanksgiving Day, and once again on the tenth anniversary this past September, I knew I’d be moved. It turns out, I had no idea just how moved I would be.

First, let me say that I loved the movie and recommend it. I hope my brother and sister-in-law take my nephew and only wish I could go with them when they do. It is a movie that celebrates all that is good and wonderful about New York City. The people, places, and energy. It is beautifully shot. I was in the city when they were filming parts of it, but then, they are always filming something there. One foggy scene looked oh so familiar.

Yes, I got choked up during and after the movie. I got teary and sniffly. The only reason I wasn’t openly sobbing is that I was in a public theater. If I’d been at home alone…forget it…I would have been openly crying. Not that crying is a bad thing; I’m glad I saw it on the big screen. It was a moving story, the acting was top notch, there were surprises, I saw very familiar looking places, and heard great New York references (let’s see if Neal and Carla catch the Fairway reference). It felt familiar and showed me once again that it really is a small, small world. The kid in the film reminded me of my nephew in so many ways.  Once he and his parents see it, I’m sure they’ll understand why. Maps, bridges, swings, subways, and boats, Ross.  That’s all I’m going to say.  

One of the many surprises was near the end when I saw one of my favorite actors in a pivotal role. I won’t spoil it for you…suffice to say I saw him in a fantastic role last year at Lincoln Center and he showed a completely different side of his talents in the movie.

So, go. If you love New York City, family, great acting, a heart warming story that was extremely touching, go see this movie and bring a hankie.