By far, New Yorkers’ number one fear is accidental electrocution (I have absolutely no data to support this claim). Ever since 30-year old grad student Jodie Lane got killed by the electrically charged Con Edison manhole cover while walking her dogs in the East Village, people have used more caution in dealing with street utilities. But it still happens—like this January in Park Slope, when a man Aric Roman and his dog Cruzer were nearly the victims of what Con Ed calls, “stray voltage.” Random electrical currents build up in surrounding metal objects like lampposts and fire hydrants, and move through wet or icy pavement. The currents can even travel through salt paths created from de-icers placed on snowy sidewalks.
Although it’s highly unlikely that you will be electrocuted while innocently walking down the street, it’s not impossible. To the end of avoiding said fate, don’t walk over the Con Edison metal street plates. As long as you are doing that, you might as well avoid stepping on the subway grates, as people sometimes fall six feet into the sidewalk when they give way. You should also exercise caution when treading over the bouncy cellar doors outside of local businesses. It's fun, but they are century-old metal grates with only a rusted iron bar keeping you from landing in a heap in the basement of a bodega.
While you’re avoiding all those other dangers, steer clear of any open covers or exposed wires on streetlights, and keep your dog from urinating on them and accidentally getting electrocuted. New York has 94,000 miles of underground cables, making the sidewalks a veritable death trap! For more info, visit Blair Sorrel’s blog, StreetZaps.com.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
New Yorkers Don’t Wear White
Your map is safely in your fanny pack, you’re avoiding eye contact, and you managed to score a seat on the subway. So why everyone is still looking at you like you’re a tourist? Here are some tips on fitting in.
First off, New Yorkers don’t wear white. With the possible exceptions of Santaria initiates, J-Lo after Labor Day, and the DDP (Dominicans Don’t Play) gang rumored to rule Washington Heights, New Yorkers as a group tend to avoid all-white ensembles, given that most of the city is filthy. Instead, New Yorkers favor wearing a lot of black and dark denim. To belong, you should avoid looking as though “Anyone for tennis?” is the next thing coming out of your mouth.
The same goes for your blindingly-white Reebok sneakers. While you are going from your house in the suburbs to your SUV to the Wal-Mart and back, city dwellers are navigating dirty subway steps, avoiding scummy puddles, and shambling past windblown trash on our merry mile-long jaunts through town. All this beating feet will trash a pair of white kicks in no time. So when we see someone moseying around town in super-white sneakers who isn’t P-Diddy, we tend to tag them as a tourist. If you want to fit in, get a pair of beat-up old Converse All-Stars. Oh, and ladies: avoid the sandals. You will not be able to stomach how dirty your feet will get in a matter of hours. Not to mention the pain of walking the grid with no arch support.
Next, ditch the matching outfits for your family. It’s embarrassing! Besides, it’s not Disneyland: if you lose a kid, it’s not like you can tell the cops he’s the one in the blue jeans and red shirt. There’s 8 million people; odds are 17,500 of them are wearing blue jeans and a red shirt at any given time. Plus, the matchy-matchy routine identifies you as tourists. You might as well pin a $100 bill to your ass and stand in Times Square looking up at buildings, yelling, “Victim here!”
And, hate to bring it up again, but fanny packs are just not gonna cut it here in the land of Fags In Training and Parsons School of Design. The only acceptable fanny pack ever made is that cute little Prada number that looks more like a money belt. Instead, leave your important stuff in the safe at your hotel, and travel with a small billfold with your Metrocard, some cash in small bills, and one credit card, in case of emergency. Put it in your front pocket if possible. Although the city is safer than many smaller destinations (including Disneyland’s Orlando), people will still take advantage of an easy mark. Don’t be that pigeon.
More important even than what you wear is how you act. To look like a New Yorker, act like a New Yorker: Keep your eyes on the ground, walk at a brisk clip, don’t smile or talk to strangers, ignore beggars and sandwich-board flyer guys, and regard anything you see as instantly and hopelessly passé.
First off, New Yorkers don’t wear white. With the possible exceptions of Santaria initiates, J-Lo after Labor Day, and the DDP (Dominicans Don’t Play) gang rumored to rule Washington Heights, New Yorkers as a group tend to avoid all-white ensembles, given that most of the city is filthy. Instead, New Yorkers favor wearing a lot of black and dark denim. To belong, you should avoid looking as though “Anyone for tennis?” is the next thing coming out of your mouth.
The same goes for your blindingly-white Reebok sneakers. While you are going from your house in the suburbs to your SUV to the Wal-Mart and back, city dwellers are navigating dirty subway steps, avoiding scummy puddles, and shambling past windblown trash on our merry mile-long jaunts through town. All this beating feet will trash a pair of white kicks in no time. So when we see someone moseying around town in super-white sneakers who isn’t P-Diddy, we tend to tag them as a tourist. If you want to fit in, get a pair of beat-up old Converse All-Stars. Oh, and ladies: avoid the sandals. You will not be able to stomach how dirty your feet will get in a matter of hours. Not to mention the pain of walking the grid with no arch support.
Next, ditch the matching outfits for your family. It’s embarrassing! Besides, it’s not Disneyland: if you lose a kid, it’s not like you can tell the cops he’s the one in the blue jeans and red shirt. There’s 8 million people; odds are 17,500 of them are wearing blue jeans and a red shirt at any given time. Plus, the matchy-matchy routine identifies you as tourists. You might as well pin a $100 bill to your ass and stand in Times Square looking up at buildings, yelling, “Victim here!”
And, hate to bring it up again, but fanny packs are just not gonna cut it here in the land of Fags In Training and Parsons School of Design. The only acceptable fanny pack ever made is that cute little Prada number that looks more like a money belt. Instead, leave your important stuff in the safe at your hotel, and travel with a small billfold with your Metrocard, some cash in small bills, and one credit card, in case of emergency. Put it in your front pocket if possible. Although the city is safer than many smaller destinations (including Disneyland’s Orlando), people will still take advantage of an easy mark. Don’t be that pigeon.
More important even than what you wear is how you act. To look like a New Yorker, act like a New Yorker: Keep your eyes on the ground, walk at a brisk clip, don’t smile or talk to strangers, ignore beggars and sandwich-board flyer guys, and regard anything you see as instantly and hopelessly passé.
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