by David Willems
People at times ask me what I do on the weekends here in New York City. I often tell them, "I walk around and look at stuff." This is often met with a look which seems to be a cross between, "That sure sounds boring" and "Are you sure you don't own a red knit cap because you sound crazy." But it is in fact is one of the main reasons I moved to this city. It was made for walking.
I love to spend hours moving from neighborhood to neighborhood. In truth it always shocks me when people say that they're bored. I usually tell them that all they need to do is walk around this city for half an hour and I guarantee that they will see something that they've never seen before--and will probably never see again·naked men on bicycles, fist fights, painters, clowns on stilts, bad musicians, the affluent, the destitute, things on fire, things under water, dazed people, happy people: it's all up for observation and comment. Just find a nice bench to sit at, if you don't feel like walkng; you'll be entertained for hours.
I recently saw a journal that a young photographer had kept during his brief but adventurous life. It was called "The Journey Is the Destination." For me that title really sums it up. For me, it is not where I'm going, but the simple fact of going. The enjoyment of movement, the plunging into the fray or the quiet·contemplation or chaos, it's all life.
Baudelaire wrote about this. In French, these urban wanderers are called "Flaneurs." I sadly believe, however, that the New York "flaneur" is a dying breed. You can tell by the rapidity of movement, the glazed looks, even the quickness and carelessness with which we tear down old beautiful buildingsto replace them with bland facades of dull white brick. The flaneur is still in search of the little hidden areas. There is a great website called www.forgotten-ny.com which details many of these lost paths. It must be run by a true flaneur.
My friend John once came up with a game which I think could entice one into the spirit of wandering, if indeed it's been ingrained that there MUST be a place to "end up at" if one is to step outside the door. The game simply consists of walking, and when you reach a corner, you take whatever direction the "walk" sign happens to be in. That's it. If you reach a dead end (or the river) simply turn the corner and proceed in a new direction. Soon you will concentrate less on where you are going and instead focus on what is around you.
People in this city are so entirely unique. My girlfriend and I are constantly "amazed" by the different ways in which people get through life. The diner by my apartment offers a terrific cross section of the Upper East Side neighborhood. Breakfast is an endless amusement. We also have our favorite areas of the city, favorite benches which offer the best "people watching." The key is to go once with a good "observer." Once you're hooked, you're hooked for life.
The city itself is a book. The city of a million stories, or whatever the phrase is. It's a best seller every day. After all, what could be more fascinating than real life?