Last week I was able to travel to New York City for a free screenwriting class. The class was entitled, How to Pitch Like a Pro. It was an energetic class with a great group of people. It did give me several ideas of where to start with my animated screenplay, Nugget. I’m not sure where promoting that will head, but I’m going to start applying the lessons learned in that class and see where it heads.
Unlike the trip to Grandmother’s house in the old children’s song, the trip to New York doesn’t go over the river. I went under the river—through the Holland Tunnel on the way there and through the Lincoln Tunnel on the way back. It’s not scary, but it is a tight squeeze of traffic. What is scary is a New York City cab driver. The guy that drove me had sixteen consonants in his name and drove like a maniac. I think he may have learned how to drive in New Jersey. New Jersey traffic, particularly near New York, is madness. It requires quick braking, high speeds, and a lack of reticence using the horn or exercising the finger.
I had some New York pizza, which was yummy, but the best food I ate was at Lenny’s. Their sandwiches are the bomb. Just be ready to sacrifice an artery at the altar of flavor.
I was able to see quite a few sights including: Rockefeller Center, Grand Central Station, the library, Bryant Park, NBC Studios and Radio City Music Hall. Since I was there for less than a day, I wasn’t able to see any of these in detail. I took a picture and moved on. By the end of the day my feet were barking.
When I’m able to go again, I would love to see Central Park. The midtown area is frenetic. It is a constant wash of voices, engines and horns. All that background noise could become tiresome quickly. I think Central Park may be the quiet oasis to soothe the nerves, but I’m just guessing.
I was able to take a ride in the subway. Before getting on the train, a gentleman with a British accent was asking me for directions. I wasn’t able to help him, seeing I had only been in the city for an hour and a half. I’m not sure if I simply had a friendly face or if I looked like a New Yorker. Maybe this poor soul was tending sheep a day before on some hillside and was completely lost in the big city. I think someone else helped him. Good thing, because I had only tentatively figured out my next stop. This may be a metaphor for my life—a sojourner who only has a tentative idea of his next stop.