There's something about Brooklyn
I returned to New York for the first time since before the plague, and it's looking well
Many years ago, probably sometime around 1998 or 1999, I went for a copy editing tryout at the New York Times. I was hazed, they didn’t want the column I was writing for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, and the copy desk struck me as particularly joyless, so when they were lukewarm about my tryout I told them I was not interested in the position. But one thing stuck in my head about the unpleasant woman who oversaw my audition: As if she were trying to dissuade me from a job I was already having third thoughts about pursuing, she told me the salary was such that “You won’t be able to afford to live in Manhattan; you’ll have to live in Brooklyn or Queens.”
This was clearly supposed to be distasteful. But that was before Brooklyn became the center of the universe. If only I’d gritted my teeth. clawed my way into the job, and bought a little house in Brooklyn. I would be miserable and broke now, but I’d be sitting on a goldmine.
Those of us old enough to remember when Brooklyn was portrayed in popular culture as teeming with tough guys, gangsters, poor immigrants, and women with mustaches can be excused for feeling slightly bemused by its modern incarnation as the epicenter of all things young and hip. Doubtless you know some young people who have followed their yellow brick road to this shining borough of brewpubs, cool businesses, and cutting-edge arts. And with good reason: It may not be affordable anymore, but it is thriving. And youthful. Even the old people are youthful. Not that I saw many.
If you haven’t been to New York in a while (and perhaps watched in horror as it suffered appalling casualties during the height of COVID), this is a good time to rediscover it. No one will think you’re weird if you mask up, but everything is up and running and, even on a winter weekend, the signature hustle is bustling.
Full disclosure: I’m assuming you’ve visited New York at some point, and I’m not trying to do a comprehensive travelogue of all the museums and parks and restaurants and whatnot. You’re a grownup with internet access, so I don’t need to tell you what you’d find interesting. It’s a colossal city—even just Brooklyn is like the size of Chicago, for crying out loud—and there’s an almost infinite number of ways to enjoy it. No, this newsletter is just going to be about some experiences I had, things I learned, and impressions I got as someone who hadn’t visited New York in some years and had never been to Brooklyn at all and wondered what all the fuss was about. I’m not telling you what’s best. I’m just telling you that if you haven’t been for a while, you should maybe think about going. I had a great time—and, in the past, I have found New York rather depressing.
I am lucky enough to have friends in both Brooklyn and Manhattan, and it’s always a nice bonus if you have some local intel in a big, slightly overwhelming city. I stayed on my own, though, in a Sonder (like an AirBnB but there’s no host) in the Gowanus neighborhood of Brooklyn, within easy reach of tonier locales, a delightful little coffee shop (Beanmonger Coffee, in the photo at top), and a stop on the R train steps away. One thing that is really great about New York is the subway. It’s less grotty than I remember from my youth (I consider rats wildlife, like grimy squirrels), and the MTA is transitioning admirably into the 21st century with a lot of very useful and convenient technical upgrades (not available on all trains or at all stops).
My default plan upon arrival in a large and unfamiliar city, at home or abroad, is to purchase the appropriate public-transit pass for the length of my stay. I have, for example, an Oyster card lovingly tucked away so I can top it up and use it on my next trip to London. The last time I was in New York, I bought a MetroCard that made the subways mine. I started with that this time—purchased upon landing at LaGuardia!—only to make a shocking and wonderful discovery.
You don’t need a MetroCard anymore. You can get through the turnstiles by tapping your smartphone on a tablet. All it takes is a moment to ensure that you’ve got a credit or debit card in your phone’s Wallet, and you can blend in with the straphangers and pole dancers of the tunnels. Remember all those handfuls of spent MetroCards scattered on the stairs and floors of stations back in the day? GONE! Consigned to the scrapheap of history, atop the old metal subway tokens.
I also noticed that there are fewer taxis on the streets of New York. On the day I spent in Manhattan, I had a nagging sense of a disturbance in The Force, if you will; something that was different, missing, not quite right. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized what it was: not so much fewer cars, but fewer of them that were yellow. One of the unique things about New York has always been that there are far more taxis on the streets than other kinds of cars. Vast careening flocks of them, zooming down the boulevards, clogging the intersections, honking raucously, like ungainly but agile birds with no natural predators.
Sure, there are still cabs. If you need one, you can still fling yourself off the curb and hail one. But it’s not my imagination: According to the Taxi and Limousine Commission, as of last July there were over 7,000 active yellow cabs—but just 10 years ago, there were over 13,000. Nearly 50% attrition in a decade! Can it be that we visitors will one day lose the experience of sliding back and forth on a shiny, rumpsprung back seat on the way to an airport while a fading Broadway star welcomes us to the Big Apple and admonishes us to check all around to make sure we have our bags, coats, and umbrellas?
I never saw Brooklyn in its immigrant/tough-guy incarnation, but I can easily see its appeal now. Although guidebooks will constantly remind you how mammoth it is (yeah, OK, it’s a “borough,” but it’s bigger than most freestanding cities and you’ll be shocked at how long it can take you to get into Manhattan on the train), it’s actually quite walkable. In Manhattan, I always have the impression of walking and walking for miles and miles and thinking, Jeez, on the map this looked really close—whereas in Brooklyn, you can walk through territory of two or three distinct neighborhoods with their own names and vibes in 15 or 20 minutes. Each neighborhood has a business district with its own stores and restaurants, coffee shops, bars, vet clinics and dog daycares. And dogs. Oh my fur and whiskers, so many dogs! More dogs than taxis? Quite possibly.
It didn’t take me long at all to get my bearings and feel at home. I found the arty Finback brewery the night I arrived, and I quickly fell in love with Beanmonger Coffee, just across the street from my accommodation—tiny but always fragrant and friendly. (They make a real Brooklyn egg cream! It’s delicious!) I walked through Boerum Hill (sticking my head into L Train Vintage along the way) to the busy, inviting Atlantic Avenue business district, and far enough along Atlantic to see across the water toward Ellis Island, out beyond the heavily burdened highway ramps.
Another evening, I met friends in Cobble Hill for a party at Veksler’s pan-Asian restaurant, where the food was exquisite and plentiful. And my last night, I met another friend just up the hill in Park Slope, at a cozy, crowded, and moodily lit bar called Blueprint. We had some warming beverages and caught up, and then she went off to her nearby home while I went in search of dinner. I couldn’t go home without enjoying some authentic New York pizza. I consulted my phone, looked in some windows, and chose Tutt’ Appost.
Oh, mercy. The pizza was amazing, of course. But as often happened during my trip, I was surprised by the homey air of friendliness I felt from the waitress, the other patrons, the general feel of the place. There is all kinds of everything in Brooklyn, and it’s layered tightly together. Of course. There are a zillion people, a zillion dogs, zillions of streets, coffeehouses, bars, restaurants, all ethnicities, casual, fancy, elegant brownstones, shopworn little apartments—all smushed together amid the construction sites, buses, and e-bikes. (SO many e-bikes!) But I found something I didn’t expect to find: kindness. Warmth and connection. Brooklyn isn’t just the hip, trendy place to be. It’s a haven of blocks, schools, neighborhoods. It feels supportive and welcoming in a way that I’ve never experienced in Manhattan. Maybe that’s what all the fuss is about.
There's something about Brooklyn
And that's why I love Brooklyn! Born there in 1960. Even though I left there as a young teenager...to move to Pennsylvania (John Gresh is a good friend and classmate), Brooklyn will ALWAYS be home to me.