The Big Apple and the Big Bean Dip, Part 9

A Sunday in New York didn’t seem complete without a visit to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, on Fifth Avenue just a hop/skip/jump away from Rockefeller Center.   I attended the 10:15am mass, which featured Cardinal Timothy Dolan presiding.   As it was Memorial Day, special mentions were given throughout for the Armed Services members attending, and the readings were delivered by those same service members.   As one would expect, thousands of believers (and otherwise) attended, and having Cardinal Dolan officiate was an extra bonus.  A few shots below demonstrate just how majestic this place is:




This is one of the many attractions in the City that is free-of-charge.   Mass is held daily, so if you arrive in the morning, you should be able to spend at least a bit of time checking out the ornate interior.   

Also, as another suggestion:  Last year, I went to the Cathedral of St. John The Divine, in the Upper West Side.   It’s similar in size to St. Patricks, and contains a similar level of artwork and sense of grandeur about the place, though it struck me as darker and more Gothic.   Still, the admission was free when I attended.  

After mass, I stopped briefly at the Gift Shop, then discovered a deli-like restaurant next door known as Toasties.    A little on the pricey side, it nonetheless provided a healthy brunch and a chance for me to catch up a bit on this blog.   

My next stop was to the Saturday Night Live exhibition, going on at 417 Fifth Avenue.   The premise was a behind-the-scenes look at how an episode is produced in six days - from a blank piece of paper on Monday to the show’s airing on Saturday.   Along the way, you see one of Lorne Michael’s desks, many of the props and costumes used in the show’s history, set designs and studio layout models, cue cards, scripts, and a host of other items.   You also sit in a faux control room which goes into the Director’s role in shot selection, and end with being seated in a small representation of the studio, with the main stage in the front, the sketch stage to the right, and the music stage to the left.
 
You can also have your picture taken on the “set” of Weekend Update, with one of the hosts of that segment electronically introduced into the picture.   It’s worth the price of admission, and as with many of the other places I went, it was included on the New York Pass.  

(As a side note, those who are either professional project managers or otherwise take an interest in project management will likely be fascinated with this exhibit, as it describes an intense, compressed project management exercise performed every week.)

My next stop was the United Nations Visitor Center.   As with the cathedrals and some other attractions in the city, getting in is free of charge.   As one would expect, security is tight there - you’ll need your ID to get in, and they will take a photograph of you which will appear on your pass.  You also go through metal detectors and get similar treatment to being in an airport TSA screening.  
Once in the visitor center itself, you’ll see an extended exhibit dealing with food production, GMOs, and the inter-connection with human-caused global climate change.   You’ll also see a large mural detailing some of the UN’s current projects.    Also found are a working conference chamber, a separate meditation room, and a listing of all of the former Secretaries-General of the UN.   What struck me about this visit, however, was that there seemed to be a lot of “space” between exhibits, both within the Visitor Center and outside.   It wasn’t crammed-to-the-gills with “stuff”, this, the viewer is provided ample to time to view, read, and digest the experience.





After an extended wait for the cross-town bus and trip up the 1 line back to the Marrakech, I was back in my room, resting and doing a bit of “housekeeping” . 

But I needed some live music, somewhere.   I also didn’t want to head down to Greenwich Village to get it.  So where was it, in my neck of the woods?

It turns out, that there is a Jazz supper club on 105th and Broadway, called Smoke.    That’s only two streets away from the Marrakech, so a no brainer it was.    I don’t recall the name of the act who played that night, but they did not disappoint.   A trumpet, tenor saxophone, piano, upright bass, and drums kept the place swinging for the time I was there (about 1 1/2 sets), and there was no “cover” - though there was a $20 minimum meaning that if you’re like me - one drink per day is my limit - then the difference between my drink’s price and the $20 minimum was called a “surcharge”.    No arguments made here - the music was good, and the waitress earned her tip.   

So I walk out to find that there are sheets of rain pouring down.   This was the kind of rain for which soap and shampoo would be the more appropriate response than a jacket.    I thought differently about it for a second, until I opened the door and saw a gentlemen heading out, completely plastered, and stumbling outside to the retaining wall of the entrance.   After that episode, I went back in and waited for a few minutes, but after seeing that the rain was not going to stop and the hotel only a few streets away (and the rain was not cold by any means), I dashed out the door and made my way through the sheets of rain.  

I wrung my clothes and myself out, and settled back into bed for more adventures the next day.