wicked on Broadway

New York 2018.

Day One

We took our chances leaving Boston for New York at 8 a.m.  While trying to catch a 2 p.m. matinee on Broadway.  We pulled into the Bronx to catch a train to midtown just in the nick of time and made it to our seats with 15 minutes to spare.  Lucky.  Especially for those unfamiliar with NYC and its labyrinth of subway lines.

 

Wicked was everything and more than we had hoped.  I found myself sighing after each and every number at the knowledge that we were getting closer and closer to the end of the show.  Elphaba was amazing.  Glinda?  Captivating.  It was the perfect girls day in the city.

We emerged to see that the Starlight Diner, where our cousins would be eating for dinner was just a block away from the theatre.  So we killed a bit of time strolling to Times Square.  And back.  And then stumbled upon the fam already marking their spot in line outside the restaurant.

It took us an hour, but it was an experience, to say the least.  Anna and I split a meal because, whoa.  Kids meals cost $16 a plate.  I was shell-shocked by the price of an average burger in the Big Apple and braced myself to eat hot dogs for our few days in New York.

We bid goodbye to our cousins (for the last time this trip), and took the train back to our New Jersey hotel.  It was lovely to arrive home to an unpacked car, rested toddler, and clean sheets.

Day Two

We attended church in Staten Island and ran into a friend of my parents from when I was a baby.  That’s 40 years ago, folks.  What a trip.  Chatted a bit, took a picture, changed into something a bit more tourist-friendly and took off for a bit of Sabbath-friendly sight seeing.  We drove by the house my parents lived in when I was born, then we took the Staten Island Ferry (which my dad commuted on every single day when I was little) into Manhattan.

We parted with Grandma and Grandpa so they could wait for hours to see the Statue of Liberty.  We took a stroll up to the 9/11 Memorial.  It felt like hallowed ground.  Super sobering and a good opportunity to instruct our kids.  I feel like my kids’ generation lacks perspective on the horrors of war and the blessings of living in a free country.  I sometimes fall short in my gratitude.  9/11 is the only event in my lifetime that truly hits home and reminds me not to take the ease of my life for granted.  Visiting the 9/11 memorial brought back many of the horrors of that day.  I recommitted myself to showing thanks for those who sacrifice so that we can live in peace.

Then we hopped on the subway to see the Manhattan Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  Lo, and behold, we met two couples just outside the temple, one of which was from Boise!  What are the odds?  They kindly took our family picture and we moved on the Central Park.  We covered a decent amount of ground, considering we had a toddler with us, who was skipping his nap.  The Bethesda Fountain, the Loeb Boathouse, the Great Lawn, one of the playgrounds.  We emerged on the other side of the park just in time for the Metropolitan Museum of Art to close its doors for the day.  Just in time for us to snag a picture.

After a total meltdown from our toddler, we safely made it back on a train to downtown, where we caught the ferry back to Staten Island, grabbed a cheap dinner at Denny’s and headed back to the hotel.

Day Three

So much to see, so little time.  Our day began with another ferry ride into the city where we split into two groups.  Tim went with the four girls to take the crown tour of the Statue of Liberty while Jack and I rode the train, as per his request.  We managed to fit in a visit to Grand Central Station, a walk on the High Line, and a hot dog and popsicle in Battery Park while we were at it.

Note: we booked our crown tour six months in advance.  As it turned out, all the crown tour tickets were gone for the day when we showed up at 10:30 a.m.  Wise is the man who plans ahead.  The kids enjoyed the crown tour, but the recommendation not to bring kids under 8 was sound.  Apparently, there was a kid on their tour who burst into tears at the spiral staircase (claustrophobia, perhaps?).  You also can’t take babes in arms (or in carriers) so there’s that.

At this point we were all starving so we booked it up to Chinatown for a late lunch.  Side note: Chinatown was swimming with stores whose fronts were adorned with t-shirts sporting the F-bomb.  Like ten times on each shirt.  At least ten shirts in every store.  Definitely not g-rated in those parts.  We couldn’t duck into the restaurant fast enough, having seen more swear words in less than ten minutes than my kids encounter at the junior high in a week.  Yowsers.

Food was great – bellies were full and we emerged, heads down, to make a beeline to Brooklyn so we could walk the bridge into Manhattan.  We were smart to go that direction – the views were stunning and we didn’t have to keep turning around to see them.  Jack fell asleep somewhere along the way and enjoyed a nap on the subway to South Station and across the harbor to Staten Island on the ferry.  Yay.  No meltdown that day.

And that’s a wrap for our whirlwind trip to NYC with five kids.  There’s way too much in that city to cram into a few days but I think we hit some of the highlights.  Kid-friendly ones.  And we managed to not spend an arm and a leg doing it.  At some point, I’ll write up a post of tips for traveling to New York with kids.  For now, that’s it.

From the Bronx to Broadway.

Today we drove from Boston (my favorite U.S. city) to the city of all cities.  My heart was racing the whole time-not because Tim was driving like a New Yorker, but because we had a matinee to catch.

Wicked on Broadway.

It was the only thing I wanted to do while in New York. It would be the most expensive thing we would do in New York.

I might have shed buckets of tears if we were to miss this singular experience.

I had Tim drop us off at a subway station in the Bronx so he could skirt the city and drive the Suburban to our hotel in Jersey.  (Someone had to take one for the team and sit it out with Jack.)

We were the only white folks on the train.  Talk about instant culture shock for these Idahoans.  I was pleased to find that my girls seemed unphased by this role reversal.

On our ride into the city, we encountered much of what is probably common to subway-riding New Yorkers: people selling overpriced candy in order to pay rent, a lady with outstretched hand, begging for money.  Another disabled woman asked for help with her medical bills.

All this in a matter of minutes.

Admittedly, it was sobering.

Here we were, five females from Boise, Idaho, in New York City.  Headed to a play for which we had paid $150 per ticket.  In New York City.  (Did I mention that?)

And we were riding a train with dozens, even hundreds of people who would never know that experience.

It’s been said that “ Comparison is the thief of joy.”  While that can most certainly be true, I also believe that it can work the opposite direction.

I could lament the fact that, in contrast to many people with whom I associate, this was my first time seeing a play on Broadway.  I could whine about how I can only afford to attend a single production while here.

Heck, I could complain about any number of things-from the fact that our seats were 11 rows back versus front and center to the inconvenience of sitting behind someone taller than I.

But that would be silly, wouldn’t it?

My takeaway from our train ride was that comparison can only rob us of joy when we lack perspective.  If we constantly look in the direction of those who have more and do more than we, we cannot help but feel short-changed.

Alternatively, when we experience a world of the have-nots, we suddenly realize what a small percentage of the world enjoys the blessings we do.  Instead of feeling entitled, our joy is enhanced by the gratitude we feel.

I know mine was.  Dang, I’m glad we took the subway in today.