Everything you ever wanted to know about the Subway Doctor

Gothamist posted an interview this morning with Dr. Zizmor, the subway dermatologist. I've been in New York about 10 years, and Dr. Zizmor's ads were among the first I noticed when I moved here and became a regular subway commuter. I've always had a low opinion of Dr. Z's practice. I tend to devalue local businesses that I see advertising in the subway, mostly because the older cars are so dingy and the ads look weathered and of poor quality as a result. I think it reflects badly on the business that chooses to advertise down there. My ex-wife used to work for a dermatologist, and everyone assumed that he was Dr. Z. (He was not.) Maybe that's just my opinion. I've never asked anyone if they've patronized an establishment based on a subway ad.

Stigma or not, the ads work for Dr. Z. He's built a successful practice and was ranked as one of the 10 best doctors in America by Harper's. It's good to know he's a reputable physician, should I ever need to have a tattoo removed.

This seems like a non-starter, and I hope it is

Gothamist has this story about TSA screeners replacing NYPD for random bag checks in the NY subway system. For those of you who don't live here, since the London bombings in 2005 the NYPD has conducted random backpack searches at subway stations. I see the police checking bags about once every two months at my subway stop in Brooklyn, and I used to see them about once a month at my old stop on the Upper East Side. But the bag checks are voluntary, in that if they ask you to open your bag and you refuse, you aren't allowed in the subway at that stop, but you also aren't detained. You can just walk to the next station that doesn't have a bag check table, and enter the subway there. I've never been asked to show my bag to them. Most of the time, the cops are just standing at their card table talking to each other. But I've heard stories about these "random" searches unfairly targeting people of color. I cannot imagine how much worse the situation will get under the TSA's "theater of security" system. According to the linked story, the TSA screeners have had three hours of training on legal issues and the subway system. I'm sure that's going to smooth everything over.

Between this and the swine flu scare, maybe it's time to look into working from home. I've been wanting to use the HDTV as a second monitor.

seen on the subway this morning

This morning's commute included the first Christmas carol of the season, courtesy of a man playing the guitar and singing in Spanish. He played one unfamiliar non-holiday song from Pacific Street to DeKalb Avenue, then he played "Feliz Navidad" from DeKalb to Lawrence Street. I hate "Feliz Navidad." It's repetitive, simplistic, and worst of all, it gets stuck in my head for hours. When he started playing it I nearly pulled a muscle reaching for the volume on my iPod to drown him out. Even now there's still a hint of it floating around in my head.

This second item has been bothering me for a few days. Bank of America has a new subway ad campaign touting a reward program in which they give you $10 back for every $100 you spend on transit on their credit card. All the ads show "typical" New Yorkers with quotes like "Ten bucks back for every hundred spent on transit? Great. What about a solution for gridlock?" Or "Fantastic. What can you do about my neighbor's tap dancing?" The photos accompanying the quotes show people who are not smiling and happy about the reward. Their lips are pursed, making them look impatient and annoyed. The ads come across as arrogant. Instead of seeing the program as a benefit, the ads show a false sense of entitlement. They say New Yorkers are smug jerks who, when presented with a good deal, say (with a highly sarcastic tone) "Thanks. Now double it, get me another latte, and I'll think about it. And shut up."

I don't know where my head is lately

I should preface this story by pointing out that except for last night, when I slept about 7 hours, I'd slept less than 6 hours each night for the past three or four nights, and I don't think I've been eating properly for a few days. So sleep deprivation and a change in diet might explain what's been going on with my brain lately.

I had a weird trip home from work tonight. I left the office about 6:30 and got on a 5 train, which was good because if there was a Yankee game tonight the 4 train would be crowded but the 5 would not. I got out my iPod and put on Bob Dylan's "Bringing It All Back Home," which I haven't listened to in a long time. I was thinking about what I had to do tonight: buy groceries, call a friend who's going to cat-sit for me this weekend, watch some TV, get ready for work tomorrow, talk to Kate, and go to bed early. For some reason I decided to play solitaire on my iPod, something else I haven't done in a long time. I thought I was keeping track of the stops, but I must have been "in the zone" because when I looked up I saw that the next stop was 125th Street, one stop past mine. I still think I was in some sort of time warp, because I've been riding the 4/5 trains for five years and I've missed my stop only once or twice before. I was a little freaked out at my mistake, but I switched tracks at 125th Street and got on a downtown 4 train and got out at 86th Street.

I started walking home when I realized that I had forgotten my Macbook Pro's power supply on my desk at the office. (I realize that I could do without bringing the Mac to work every day, but I have been using it to test the Lotus Notes client for Mac, and it's fun to have at work anyway, so I bring it each day.) I've been making this trip with the Mac since I got it in February, and I hadn't forgotten the power supply before. I was cursing my absent-minded, hunger-addled and sleep-deprived brain when I remembered that I could just buy a spare power supply at Best Buy back at 86th and Lexington. So I turned around and walked back. I had been thinking that I should just get a spare power supply anyway so I wouldn't have to worry about carrying one to work each day, so I didn't really mind paying for another one. When I got to Best Buy I was still thinking about how dumb I was when I realized that I was halfway down the stairs into the subway station again. Now that was me operating on pure muscle memory. I go into that subway station at least once a day on my way to work and sometimes twice if it's a busy travel day, so that's why some part of my animal nervous system ignored my brain and assumed that was where I wanted to go. I turned around again and walked into Best Buy and got my spare power supply.

Three hours later, I feel much better after eating dinner and relaxing. I plan to get more sleep this week and eat right and try to exercise and hopefully that will put things right in my head. It's hard enough to get through my day when my brain is operating at peak efficiency. When I'm suffering from self-induced ADD, I'm not doing myself any favors.

another subway ranter?

I was on the 6 train this morning instead of my usual 4/5 commute, at least until I changed trains at 14th St. An older man got on the train at one of the stops. He was dressed in a decent-looking blazer and slacks, and had what looked like a violin pin on his lapel, and he was carrying a newspaper. As soon as the doors closed, he said he was an example of why you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, that anyone could be in his position, and that we should all pray each day to our higher power. Then he read his paper. He didn't go on about Jesus or ask anyone for money, so I don't think he was preaching. When he got off the train a few stops later he walked past me and I caught a whiff of his odor. I don't know if it was old man funk, homeless guy stink, or something even more foul, but he had a nasty air about him. Maybe he was just hoping someone would offer him a clean pair of pants.

God has no place on public transit

On my way home from work last Friday night, I had the pleasure of having a subway preacher standing next to me and loudly proclaiming that Jesus was his savior and the one true god, etc., etc. I hate subway preachers. I don't like most forms of subway shilling, whether it's two kids doing a breakdance routine (always the same spiel, usually the same music, only the faces are different), a homeless person asking for money, or people selling candy. When I'm on the subway I just want to listen to my music and/or read my book, and all these interlopers force me to turn off my music (I can't hear it over theirs) or put away my book. However, I reserve my greatest loathing for subway preachers. At least with the other unwelcome types, you know that the show or the begging will be over by the time the train gets to the next stop. But with subway preachers, they just stay where they are through every stop and tell you all about how you're going to Hell if you don't accept Christ. This guy got on the train at 42nd St. and started by reading something from the Bible, and as soon as he got it out I knew that I'd be stuck with him next to me until I got off the train at 86th St. Sure enough, when he finished with his Bible passage, he started going on about how all the problems of the world were due to too many gods, and that Jesus was the only true god. And he kept it up, even though everyone in the car was ignoring him. When I got off at my stop, he was still going strong, telling everyone that he was on his way home to meet his wife and kids and that they were going to church that night. Well, good for them.

Later that night, I was back on the 4/5 train going downtown, on my way to Brooklyn. I was reading my book and listening to my iPod again (sometimes I can multi-task) when this woman got on the train at 59th St. She put her bags down on one of the benches, stood up at the end of the car, and started talking about Jesus. Then she started singing a gospel song, complete with clapping and exhortations for the rest of us to clap and sing along. Honestly, where do these people come from? I think she gave up somewhere between 42nd and 14th Sts. and moved to the next car, so I got a few free minutes with my music before I switched lines at 14th St.

I have no problems with anyone's religious beliefs or with free speech. But is a subway car really the best place to spread the word? Maybe I don't get it because I'm Jewish and nothing in my belief system tells me that I need to convert the heathens. In fact, rabbis actively discourage potential converts. You don't want any part of this, trust me.

Don't mess with a good thing, OR a substitute funny

I had planned to post a detailed schedule for a typical Thursday, the point being that I'm a creature of habit and I do the same things and eat the same food every Thursday on my way to orchestra rehearsal. But then I went and changed some of my patterns today, and that messed up my universe to the point that I got stuck on the subway, was nearly late for rehearsal, barely had time to eat, and generally couldn't have had a worse time getting my evening started. Things improved from there (I can say right now that our next concert on March 29 will be spectacular!) but I decided to scrap what I was going to write.

Instead, I present this, with no fanfare. Really, I couldn't do it justice. There are many, many comedic gems on the site, including this, this, this one here (ooh la la!), and this other one from the later period. I think my parents may have some of these in their collections.

heard last night on the subway

It was actually the uptown 4/5/6 platform at Union Square, but it was still in the subway. I was on my way home and I heard bagpipes and drums as I descended the stairs to the platform, so I thought it might be an actual Scottish bagpiper group down there. It turned out to be a lone bagpiper and another guy playing one large hand-held drum. The bagpiper was white and the drummer was not, so I'm not sure they were together. Also, the piper wasn't always playing to the beat of the drummer so musically the performance didn't mesh. Finally, the most important details was the songs the piper played. Instead of the usual "Scotland The Brave," "Amazing Grace," or other Highland tunes, he played off-key versions of "Over There" and I think a Christmas carol or two. I have to read more about it, but I think there's a reason bagpipes play certain melodies and not others, having to do with the key of the instrument and the notes it can play. In other words, this piper couldn't hit all the notes of these songs on his instrument. I wish he'd gone "Over There" to play.

seen on last night's commute home

I got on the 4 train at Fulton St. There was a little girl hanging onto the pole in front of me, and she was swinging around and bumping into me and a few people around me. I moved to the center of the car to get out of her way and went back to reading the TMQ column I'd printed out for the ride home. After another stop I moved further into the car, and now I was standing in front of this little girl (who was sitting down) and her (I assume) sister and grandmother. Grandma was in the middle, and the two girls were on either side of her. The first girl kept bouncing up and down and bumping the lady next to her. Then she started saying "Excuse me!" to the few people standing up in front of her, including me. It seems she wanted to tell me something important about her sister. I had my headphones on and did my best to ignore her. After another few minutes of this, she swatted her sister a couple of times, reaching across Grandma to do so. Grandma didn't seem to care. This girl was also sucking on some hard candy and coughing a lot, so I turned around and faced the other way after another stop. At 42nd St. a kid selling candy stepped into our car. The girls wanted candy, so he stopped in front of them and they spent a few minutes picking out Snickers bars and Skittles and begging Grandma for money to get more candy. Now these girls were clearly hopped up on enough sugar already, and didn't need any more, but Grandma didn't care. To her credit, she told them they could only get two candy bars each from the kid. Girl #1 broke into her bag of Skittles as soon as the transaction was completed. I got off the train at 86th St., glad that I didn't have to find out how much worse those kids would be by the time they got to their stop.

OK, so after I wrote that it's hardly the worst thing I've endured on a subway ride home. And I admit I don't have kids, so I don't know what's involved in keeping them from bothering other people. But Grandma should have known, and done something, but she was practically asleep while these kids were jumping all over the place. I see this kind of behavior all the time on the subway (and the city, for that matter). Parents let their kids run around on the trains or on the sidewalk, and I have to dodge them to keep from knocking them over. I imagine that if I ran into one of these kids by accident, the parents would blame me for not looking where I was going. And who knows what would have happened if I or one of my fellow commuters had tried to tell Grandma to get her charges under control last night.

Mostly, I just hate people. They're the worst.

working from home thanks to the MTA

I missed all the excitement on Wednesday. I woke up around 8 AM, took a shower and put on the TV around 8:30, and that's when I found out I'd slept through severe thunderstorms that flooded all the subway lines in Manhattan. I spent my morning on a conference call and watching NY1 for updates on the subway situation. By lunchtime the reports were not promising, so my boss told me and the rest of the Manhattan staff to stay home and work. I got more work done from home today than I usually get done at the office. I'm not saying I want to work from home all the time, but it was kind of fun. I had the news on for a while, watched part of a movie during lunch, and then listened to music in the afternoon while working with one of the guys in the office to get a server installed.

On Thursday I'll be downtown at 111 Centre St. for jury duty. I haven't been called for jury duty in six or seven years. The last time I went, I took a book and read the entire time. I'll bring a book tomorrow, but I think I'll bring my laptop as well. From what I understand, the courthouse has Internet access, so maybe I'll be able to keep up with my various blogs and news sites. I'm not worried about getting picked for a trial. If it happens, I'll have something else to talk about besides the annoyance of sitting in a jury waiting room all day.

Would YOU have recognized what you heard?

My favorite Washington Post writer, Gene Weingarten, had an incredible article in yesterday's Post Magazine. He got Joshua Bell, one of the world's foremost concert violinists, to play in Washington's L'Enfant Plaza Metro stop, on a Stradivarius violin, for 45 minutes on a January morning at rush hour. The results were not surprising to me: few people noticed the world-class artistry just a few feet away from them as they sped past on their way to work. Check out the videos embedded in the article and you can see what I mean. There's also a recording on the Post's web site of Bell's entire performance, which I highly recommend even if you put it on in the background and do something else. There's crowd noise and conversation in the background, but there's no mistaking Bell's talent. This man is clearly no ordinary street musician. Weingarten participated in an online chat this afternoon, which revealed how the Post arranged the performance. And the feedback from readers is quite interesting.

The sad thing is that if I'd been there that morning, I might have stopped for a few minutes to listen, but I doubt I'd have recognized Bell or even realized that he was anything other than a better-than-average musician. And I've heard Bell in concert before. Although if I'd happened by while he was playing Bach's Chaconne, I hope I would have paused. That's just one of the most beautiful pieces of music Bach ever wrote.

messed-up evening commute

It took me over an hour and a half to get home tonight. A late morning building collapse at 116th and Lexington screwed up the East Side subways. I'd heard about it at midafternoon but forgot by the time I went home. I got stuck on a slow-moving 5 train that sat or crawled for about half an hour between 14th St. and 42nd St. During this time, a guy standing a few feet away alternated between cursing the train operator and loudly rapping along with the music playing in his headphones. By the time we got to 42nd St. and I could get off the train I wanted to give him a beat-down. Also, the tourists were out in full force today. I think they just materialized when the temperature went above 70 degrees. I was stuck on the train between amateur rapper and annoyed out-of-towners.

At Grand Central, I switched to the crosstown shuttle, then got on an uptown 1 to 86th and Broadway. Tired and hungry, I waited about 10 minutes for the crosstown bus and finally got home around 7:45. I'd left the office at 6:15.

I can't wait to see what happens tomorrow morning.

Live here long enough, and it will happen to you

Last night I was coming home late on the subway, around 11:45 PM. I got on the J train in Brooklyn and there were a few other people in the car with me. The two guys sitting across from me were dressed well enough and were talking to each other -- in other words, completely non-threatening at first glance. I had my headphones on and was doing my usual routine of enjoying my music and looking around the car, but avoiding eye contact with everyone else. I happened to look at the two guys across from me and that's when I noticed one of them had a hole in his pants just south of his crotch. And poking out of this hole was more than a hint of his Schwannstucker. I looked away and kept my eyes anywhere but on him. I don't think this was a subway pervert or flasher situation, because he was talking to his friend the other time and from what I could tell his buddy didn't notice the little buddy hanging out and enjoying the evening air. Crotch-hole must have felt the breeze at the next stop because out of the corner of my eye I saw him adjust his pants and jacket to hide his junk. Unfortunately, I now have an image of this guy's tallywhacker etched on my brain. Just what I wanted for Christmas!