Greetings from the Big Apple.  Funny that in all my time growing up on the east coast, I have never been here before.  From first impressions I think the city lives up to everything it is said to be.  Riding in on the train and listening to snippets of conversations, I was loving the deeply accented chatter from most everyone.  The overall love of the brown leather gangster/wise guy jacket was just another piece of the puzzle that fit perfectly.  As my train progressed along its route, graffiti and lone box cars dotted the way.  Crawling away from JFK, I glimpsed a few neighborhoods.  Old brick and mortars and wood sided houses; all clumped together like sardines in a can.  No different than the average space of a California home it seemed, but there was something different about it as well.  The houses had more history behind them.  They seemed used and worn.  Maybe they were more home than house.  I felt like I could walk up and ask if Mrs. Sullivan was home and I would get, “Nah, she doesn’t live here.  She’s two doors down.”  That’s the kind of neighborhood that I love.  Where every house has a story to tell.

On approach to the city, the skyline appeared.  I love the buildings here.  There are just so many of them, they are all built with such differing architectural style, and they are all packed in close together.  There’s a palpable energy that you can feel here, and I got a little jazzed myself.

Off the train and on to meet my cousin for a day in the city, I walked a few circles at the Hoboken Station before Bev came to pick me up.  Thanks Bev!  Leaving the bags at her house, we took off for the city.  Our first stop was to check out The Highline, and elevated park that was once a train route.  Peppered with low maintenance plants, a cool array of granite, and super loungey chairs made from recycled wood, I found myself breathing deeply and finally relaxing since entering the city.  Back on the city streets, we hopped over to check out Richard Serra and his Blind Spot work at the Gagoisan Gallery.  Walking through these enormously shaped plates, the scale of shaping them hits you.  The steel is probably 2 inches thick, and shipped over from afar.  They are left exposed on deck and allowed to rust, giving them a nice pock marked, rust red appearance.  Our next goal was to catch a cab.  I searched in vain for the Cash Cab, and we jumped in another yellow vehicle of terror and mayhem.  My god they drive like nuts out here!  I was thankful that my line of sight was partially impaired from sitting behind the driver.  I think I would have lost it had I been able to see.

Exiting white knuckled and happy to be alive, we took the express elevator up to Top of the Rock, where you can really have some stunning views of the city.  Spying central park west, the upper east side, and all points beyond, it was a truly gorgeous thing to do.  Once again on solid ground, we huffed our way to a little wine bar and for a little rest, cheese, an a much needed glass of wine.  I said hello and goodbye to Times Square, and off we went to catch the bus back to Hoboken.  With a meal in my stomach, a shower, and a soft bed, I was done for.  My head started to bob, and the redeye started to take hold.  Next thing I know it’s morning!  Man, it’s been a while since I slept that well!

So today my mission is to find my way to CT and meet up with the band.  Tonight is the first show I will be covering.  I can’t wait to see them in action and record the events.  I hope you’ll join me in following my adventure over the next few days.

See you down the road.

-Todd