Monday, November 09, 2009
Dr Paranoia celebrates Yankee victory and other miracles
LOOKING AHEAD by Wally Dobelis
New Yorkers celebrate Yankee victory, and other miracles
Dr. Paranoia, a frequent contributor, sends this e-mail:
A-Rod owes me $100 and then some, in lost pay. Or maybe it is Matsui or Derek Jeter, but I don't care. It was worth it, to have another New York World Series parade, even though it took me two extra hours to arrive at work, for a late appointment.
Just getting on the Lexington Ave express was an event, the crush was beyond belief. Yankee tribute apparel predominated on men and women, even middle-aged ones, with many dressed in Yankee navy-blue jackets, or white shirts with black stripes and numbers. Nos. 13 and 2 were easy to identify, those are Alex Rodriguez’s and Jeter’s, but 51? When the man turned around, I saw it was a Williams’ shirt. Bernie Williams 16 seasons a Yankee, gone but not forgotten. Maybe it was in memory of the 26th victory, the 2000 World Series, last previous Yankee triumph, or those of 1998 and 1999, or the miracle of 1996, when, thanks to Al Leyritz’s bat, the Yanks won 4-2 against Atlanta, after disastrously losing the first two home games.
As the train neared Brooklyn Bridge, the conductor announced that the immediate subsequent stop at Fulton St. would be skipped, and Wall St. would be next. The great crowd erupted in a roar, but left peacefully. When the rest of passengers got to Wall Street it became evident that the lower part of Manhattan, from the Battery to the NY Stock Exchange on Broad, was in danger of sinking into the ocean, there were so many of us. On the subway platform a dozen policemen, the big ones imported from the boroughs, had closed off the three stairways to Broadway. They herded us into the basement passages of 71 Broadway and the other adjacent street-through buildings, leading west towards Hudson River and away from Broadway. But we did not go peacefully. Suddenly a warlike chant of USA! USA! from a gang of tall guys (Yankee Stadium regulars, my guess) started reverberating in the passageway, but that could not speed up our progress, and the shouters turned it down to a milder Yankee! Yankee! invocation. Eventually we all trickled out on Trinity and Washington Streets, towards the west river docks. Rector Street and other cross passages were blocked off, empty, except for police cars for emergency use, and, if lucky enough to be next to the barricade, one could watch the beginnings of the parade and the passing trucks of people as though through a long tube, or use the miraculous long zooms of modern cameras.
The police were of no help - advising us ID card waving office-bounds to “wait 45 minutes and you'll get through, across Broadway," advice that sounded well-meant but not well informed (as it turned out, it would take three hours to make that crossing). This was the point at which I decided to outflank the parade and get to my Water Street objective on the east side by going south to the Battery and then hooking left. A friendly three-star let me through, after checking my picture ID, and I was on my way south, pushing through people waving A Proud New Yorker posters supplied by the City and media sources, no sign of largesse from such as Goldman Sachs who were in the process of quietly spooking through a $23 billion (that’s with nine zeroes) bonus package to their staff speculators. That was their reward for using our TARP money in scooping up bear-market-shriveled stock shares dumped by panicking individuals, funds and banks, and boosting the numbers, miraculously. Is Goldman the secret government? Why not, didn’t they sink their competitor, Lehman? It can be done; didn’t Bloomberg buy NYC, just now?Or is it just the banality of money-grubbing, as Hannah Arendt might say?
But I digress. By now I had reached State Street, which separates the city from the green Battery Park, where I found out from another friendly uniformed officer that crossing State Street to get to the Battery Park was not only a no-no but also physically out, the barricades were locked together so tightly. It finally occurred to me that Commissioner Ray Kelly was really worrying about the Alley of Heroes being a perfect place for the al-Qaeda terrorists, using the parade to shock us once more.So I had to walk west, passing the Highlander marchers, high school bands, and bagpipers, and trucks of Yankee-jacketed fans with bandoleers, all staged on State Street. That took me practically to Newark, but eventually I was able to cross State and proceed east along the park.
If you call that proceeding. The crowd got thicker, watching the orchestras and trucks full of people - and no Mr. Johns in sight. I refused to dwell on sanitation strategies for overflow parades, and managed to reach Water Street, two hours late for my appointment. But the financial world was mellow that day, the weather was mild, and working late was no pain. Besides, today Yankees, tomorrow the health program and Afghanistan soon thereafter, let’s hope we are on a roll. It is a time of miracles, didn’t we just find water on the Moon, and what about the stock market prices defying gravity, and the admirer who spent thousands of dollars for Bernie Madoff’s old satin Yankee jacket?
New Yorkers celebrate Yankee victory, and other miracles
Dr. Paranoia, a frequent contributor, sends this e-mail:
A-Rod owes me $100 and then some, in lost pay. Or maybe it is Matsui or Derek Jeter, but I don't care. It was worth it, to have another New York World Series parade, even though it took me two extra hours to arrive at work, for a late appointment.
Just getting on the Lexington Ave express was an event, the crush was beyond belief. Yankee tribute apparel predominated on men and women, even middle-aged ones, with many dressed in Yankee navy-blue jackets, or white shirts with black stripes and numbers. Nos. 13 and 2 were easy to identify, those are Alex Rodriguez’s and Jeter’s, but 51? When the man turned around, I saw it was a Williams’ shirt. Bernie Williams 16 seasons a Yankee, gone but not forgotten. Maybe it was in memory of the 26th victory, the 2000 World Series, last previous Yankee triumph, or those of 1998 and 1999, or the miracle of 1996, when, thanks to Al Leyritz’s bat, the Yanks won 4-2 against Atlanta, after disastrously losing the first two home games.
As the train neared Brooklyn Bridge, the conductor announced that the immediate subsequent stop at Fulton St. would be skipped, and Wall St. would be next. The great crowd erupted in a roar, but left peacefully. When the rest of passengers got to Wall Street it became evident that the lower part of Manhattan, from the Battery to the NY Stock Exchange on Broad, was in danger of sinking into the ocean, there were so many of us. On the subway platform a dozen policemen, the big ones imported from the boroughs, had closed off the three stairways to Broadway. They herded us into the basement passages of 71 Broadway and the other adjacent street-through buildings, leading west towards Hudson River and away from Broadway. But we did not go peacefully. Suddenly a warlike chant of USA! USA! from a gang of tall guys (Yankee Stadium regulars, my guess) started reverberating in the passageway, but that could not speed up our progress, and the shouters turned it down to a milder Yankee! Yankee! invocation. Eventually we all trickled out on Trinity and Washington Streets, towards the west river docks. Rector Street and other cross passages were blocked off, empty, except for police cars for emergency use, and, if lucky enough to be next to the barricade, one could watch the beginnings of the parade and the passing trucks of people as though through a long tube, or use the miraculous long zooms of modern cameras.
The police were of no help - advising us ID card waving office-bounds to “wait 45 minutes and you'll get through, across Broadway," advice that sounded well-meant but not well informed (as it turned out, it would take three hours to make that crossing). This was the point at which I decided to outflank the parade and get to my Water Street objective on the east side by going south to the Battery and then hooking left. A friendly three-star let me through, after checking my picture ID, and I was on my way south, pushing through people waving A Proud New Yorker posters supplied by the City and media sources, no sign of largesse from such as Goldman Sachs who were in the process of quietly spooking through a $23 billion (that’s with nine zeroes) bonus package to their staff speculators. That was their reward for using our TARP money in scooping up bear-market-shriveled stock shares dumped by panicking individuals, funds and banks, and boosting the numbers, miraculously. Is Goldman the secret government? Why not, didn’t they sink their competitor, Lehman? It can be done; didn’t Bloomberg buy NYC, just now?Or is it just the banality of money-grubbing, as Hannah Arendt might say?
But I digress. By now I had reached State Street, which separates the city from the green Battery Park, where I found out from another friendly uniformed officer that crossing State Street to get to the Battery Park was not only a no-no but also physically out, the barricades were locked together so tightly. It finally occurred to me that Commissioner Ray Kelly was really worrying about the Alley of Heroes being a perfect place for the al-Qaeda terrorists, using the parade to shock us once more.So I had to walk west, passing the Highlander marchers, high school bands, and bagpipers, and trucks of Yankee-jacketed fans with bandoleers, all staged on State Street. That took me practically to Newark, but eventually I was able to cross State and proceed east along the park.
If you call that proceeding. The crowd got thicker, watching the orchestras and trucks full of people - and no Mr. Johns in sight. I refused to dwell on sanitation strategies for overflow parades, and managed to reach Water Street, two hours late for my appointment. But the financial world was mellow that day, the weather was mild, and working late was no pain. Besides, today Yankees, tomorrow the health program and Afghanistan soon thereafter, let’s hope we are on a roll. It is a time of miracles, didn’t we just find water on the Moon, and what about the stock market prices defying gravity, and the admirer who spent thousands of dollars for Bernie Madoff’s old satin Yankee jacket?
# posted by Wally Dobelis @ 8:53 AM 
