Although saddled with a less than stellar reputation, storefront psychics, like most other fields of endeavor, span a range of expertise (or perhaps more accurately, familiarity) with the arts of fortune telling.

In the 1970s, the niece of a friend was rather determined to get a psychic reading, so we obliged. After all, what was the harm of few dollars spent for her satisfaction and our amusement? And, to be honest, I had always been curious myself. So, off we went to find a Gypsy/Roma fortuneteller. This was a simple task – several hundred psychic shops dot the boroughs of New York City, and we knew of one just around the corner.

What we hoped would at least be an entertaining small indulgence turned out to be a disappointment. Our companion chose palm reading as the road map to her future. The psychic held her hand, palm up, and began to go through a list of questions. Each question/answer/prediction was embarrassingly simplistic and formulaic. “Do you want to be married?” Our companion answered, “Yes.” The psychic pointed to a very general area in the center of her palm and said, “Shows me here you are going to be married.”

“Do you want to have children?” “Yes.” “Shows me here you are going to have children.” Every one of the psychic’s predictions was prefaced with “shows me here” while pointing to the same vague area in the center of our subject’s hand. No effort at all was made to even remotely use the elements of palmistry. No life, head, heart, sun, mercury, or fate lines.

Clearly we had not found our way to the top of the profession, but, like many disappointing experiences, a sense of humor can turn these incidents into comic material for years to come. “Shows me here” became a private catchphrase, and when popped unexpectedly at an opportune place in a conversation, it never failed to elicit laughs from our coterie of insiders.

I was always puzzled as to how psychics working alone could possibly even afford storefront rents, much less make a living. I was surprised to learn that, according to a 1999 New York Times article, fortune tellers at the time made an average of $200,000 per year. How? By reigning in clients, telling them that their problems require special treatment to remove curses or other negative influences. That costs money. Some victims have paid as much as several hundred thousand dollars over a period of time.
Actually, this activity, practiced this way, is illegal, and the police department has stepped up enforcement. From the Times article:

Fortunetelling is legal for entertainment — like hiring someone to read tarot cards at a party. But the penal code calls it a misdemeanor when a person ”holds himself out as being able, by claimed or pretended use of occult powers, to answer questions or give advice on personal matters or to exorcise, influence or affect evil spirits or curses.” Those who extract large sums are often charged with larceny, a more serious crime.

We all like the comfort of any easy repair of life’s problems. However, I am sad to report that it “shows me here” that the local fortuneteller is probably not going to be the fix 🙂

Other Related Postings: Comin Up, Fit-ty Fi

I’ve lived with steam heat all of my life in New York City, and although the silent or near silent central heating systems of new homes (such as forced air) is vastly superior, the sound of steam on a cold winter’s day gives comfort. I’m like a Pavlovian dog – I have been conditioned to the sound of steam and its association with warmth. Anyone who has been without heat for days knows how the sound of steam rising is literally music to the ears.

If you wonder why I say that modern systems are vastly superior, take a look at my photo and story, The Dark Ages, here. Steam heat output is controlled in a very primitive manner, with no thermostats to regulate temperature. Often, apartments or offices are blistering hot. Turning off the system is not recommended or not possible, requiring windows to be opened mid-winter. Valves often do not work properly or leak, and radiators bang.

Most buildings in New York have their own boilers and provide their own steam. However, Con Edison, New York City’s local utility, has the world’s largest district heating system, and provides steam to 100,000 commercial and residential customers in Manhattan, from the Battery to 96th Street. Customers include the Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the United Nations. Hospitals, such as St. Vincent, make use of steam for sterilization procedures.

Steam is produced at five generating plants – three in Manhattan, one in Queens and one in Brooklyn. Water is boiled under high pressure to 1000 degrees F and is delivered at 358 degrees through a 105 mile system of pipes. Read more here.

Regardless of safeguards, there is inherent risk in such as system. There have been numerous steam pipe explosions in the city with fatalities and spewing debris, including asbestos, into the air. There has been controversy and talk regarding the feasibility of maintaining such a system.

One of most often asked questions is about the nature of steam rising from the streets of New York City. This steam is typically not from leaks, but from water making contact with the steam pipes and vaporizing. The steam is often vented through cones to prevent it from diminishing visibility for motorists.

For now, in mid-winter, the sound of steam is always good news to my ears and only spells one word – cozy 🙂

About the photo: This Con Ed repair truck and crew were located on Grand Street, coincidentally in front of John Jovino Gun Shop.

I enjoyed Wayne’s World on Saturday Night Live the first times I saw it (for those not familiar with the sketch series, see here). A friend at the time was incredulous that I would find such juvenile humor entertaining. But she missed the point entirely.
The brilliance of the numerous skits was the accuracy of how they captured the sophomoric humor and thinking of many high school boys. The simple inane things that would be incredibly funny to them. Of course, not every high school student finds the types of anecdotes on the show entertaining. Many are not ridden with an unsophisticated sense of humor. Unfortunately, I was not immune to the plague.

At the time I was enrolled in the university, we frequented the same all-night deli near our dormitory. There was one particular cashier who had a very distinctive accent and, in a characteristic fashion, would drop the “v” sound in five to become “fi” and drop the “f” sound in “fifty” to become “fit-ty.” So we lived for purchases that had 5 or 50 in the total.

Of course, a dream total was anything that ended in 55, becoming our beloved “fit-ty fi” – a total of $1.55, for example, was enough cause for jubilation. It had the feel of roulette: place our bets (items) on the counter, wait for the wheel to stop spinning, and see if our numbers came up. We won a single 5 or 50 often – the perfect game for impetuous youth. We were realists, and we never aspired for a dream total such as $5.55 – the odds here were quite poor, and we rarely spent that much. Better to hope for a 5, 50, or 55.

It has been a very long time since this even entered my mind, and I am proud to state that my sense of humor has become more sophisticated. But recently, at dinner, the total was so stunning that I could not help but think that this was the ne plus ultra of my youthful dreams. The unattainable. A total so perfect, we dared not think or speak it, less we live in perpetual disappointment and frustration. I had to recount this tale, of course, to my fellow dinner companions so they could fully appreciate the miracle that lay before us – a bill for $55.55 🙂

This scene in a restaurant is far from unique to New York City, but what particularly struck me was the absolute resoluteness and immediacy with which these two women wielded their phones after sitting down. One immediately began texting,  the other speaking on her cell phone. They continued through the entire meal without saying a word to each other.

Reading through numerous articles and online forums, I was actually surprised to see what appears to be an overwhelming majority who find the use of cell phones at dinner (at home or in a restaurant) rude and unacceptable, including younger people. The reasons cited were many, but most felt that eating is a social activity. Some also made the point that pulling out a cell phone during dinner makes a statement of relative importance – an insult to those who are physically there. Others, however, stated that among teenagers particularly, texting and phoning maintains a continuity of contact with their social circles. The whole phenomenon has created quite a furor, with many individuals seeking counseling.

A lot has been written since the rise of the Internet and cell phones about the nature of electronic communication technologies and whether they are tools that isolate people or bring them together. Like any other tools, they can be used or abused. There are many individuals who, for any number of reasons, have a limited social circle, and communication technology has allowed them to make new acquaintances. For some, it is difficult, if not impossible, to have much live social contact with others, perhaps due to health issues or living in a remote geographical location. For others, communication with existing friends and family is broadened beyond the time they are able to spend together physically. One could also argue that in aggregate, all the new methods of communication – texting, calling via cell phone, instant messaging, emailing, video calling, voip – have increased communication.

Personally, I try to limit cell phone conversations at dinner to receiving calls that are extremely important or where the caller would be difficult to contact. Like most things, this is a matter of degree and circumstance. People have answered landline phones during dinner for decades. In the case of these two women, they are both involved simultaneously and look quite happy sharing time together doing something they both enjoy. I’m sure the debate will rage on – whether what we have here is rude, antisocial, or perhaps a new form of social behavior: togetherlessness 🙂

There are innumerable things that children misjudge, misunderstand, misstate, and misinterpret, often with humorous or hilarious results. If you have never seen Kids Say the Darndest Things, hosted by Art Linkletter, I would highly recommend viewing this classic TV show which ran 27 years. On it, Linkletter interviewed more than 23,000 children from all strata of society with some of the most outrageously funny yet innocent commentaries on countless subjects.

However, this worldly naivete is not the exclusive domain of children. I knew a young boy who grew up outside the city and had a very sheltered youth, with no exposure to many things so common in the city. Coming to New York City was a profound culture shock in many ways. He was unfamiliar with things such as bagels, delis, Yiddish, con artists, greasy spoons, subways, and skyscrapers. Virtually everything was foreign.

There are many things in business done the same way for good reason or due to custom, usually for both. Some of the reasons are easy to guess, others are not so easy, and others could perhaps have a number of reasonable explanations. And the lack of life experience and imaginative mind of a child can improvise some crazy explanations.

Eating in restaurants was a rarity for my family and consisted of the occasional fast food place or, once in a while, a trip all the way to the famed Chicken Coop in Hartford, CT. Growing up out of the city, I never once was privy to seeing a restaurant after closing, so when I first arrived in New York City, the night time ritual of chairs being inverted and left on table tops was quite new to me and puzzling.

It may or may not have occurred to me that these chairs were placed this way for cleaning, but I had never witnessed such an event. And what really puzzled me was why they would be left like this all night long. With the naivete and wild imagination of a child, I mused that there was another reason, finally concluding that it must be to keep something from crawling up the legs of the chairs, making their way to the table tops.That had to be rats or mice. Most restaurant tables had center pedestals, so without the use of chairs, mice or rats would need to crawl upside down under the table top to complete their journey to the top itself. I was satisfied with this explanation for some time until I finally witnessed floor mopping.

Although I am still no stranger to foolishness, that was perhaps the last foolish thing that I believed with childlike naiveté. It ended as part of my ongoing education in the university of life known as New York City. When I see chair legs upright on tables at night in the darkened light, I can’t help but think of childhood’s end…

In New York City, I have been privy to many conversations on a subject that is quite taboo: childlessness, i.e. the adult or couple who, for one reason or another, chooses not to become a parent. At best, one hopes for at least civil tolerance between parents and nonparents regarding the subject. But discussions can become quite hostile, quickly escalating to character assassinations.

Many are driven to the city to pursue careers and take advantage of an environment where the American Dream looms large. Child rearing is often put on the back burner until later in life. Often, couples leave the city for the suburbs when a decision has been made to raise a family.

Economics also make it difficult to have a family here. It is doable, but the cost of real estate is extraordinary.
And there are those who just never wanted children. For these, the city provides a level of social possibilities and a density of human interaction which is hard to find elsewhere.

There is such a stimulatory environment in New York City that any children that are here almost become lost in a sensory assault of people, places, things, and activities.
And there are those who actually do hate kids. The childless who like children but have just chosen not to have them often must defend themselves against being child haters. In 2005, the New York Times published an article, “Supersize Strollers Ignite Sidewalk Drama.” In it, the discussion of childlessness is described as the last taboo:

Not having children “doesn’t mean I hate kids,” she said. “But I do hate the parents who somehow have decided that they are superior to everyone else because they have kids.”

It might help, Ms. Felcher and others said, if parents and nonparents could talk about their feelings toward one another. “It’s the last taboo in this culture,” Ms. Felcher said. “You just can’t talk about it.”
Ms. Anderson agreed, “We’re a bit afraid of expressing our opinions for fear of being labeled as people who hate children or who do not support women.”

I neither champion the life of the childless nor dislike children. The negatives of being childless become greater as individuals age. Parents pass away and often, only siblings, if there are any, remain as the only close family. Even a minimal level of care taking or assistance becomes unavailable. Holidays can become times of sadness. Many are terrified at the prospect of aging alone – even with money, a social safety net needs to include people, something money doesn’t buy.

It is easy to live a life in New York City with virtually no interaction with children at all. Childless individuals and couples are common and easy to befriend. Some may feel that this is an impoverished life. Others see it as merely a lifestyle choice and a realization that not everyone is cut out to be a parent. We should be capable of rational, calm dialogue about the subject without character assaults. It should not be the last taboo…

Related Postings: Little Burnt Out, Heart Warming, Warm and Fuzzy, Mary Celeste