A Post from NYC

My full schedule has made it extremely hard to cultivate the idea sparks I get on a daily basis. I live for the moments when a crisp thought crackles like an electric spark against the monotonous background of generic brain activity. I’m going to be revisiting my lost ideas, especially now that election fever is experiencing a momentary lull.

I’ve been in NYC for the past few days on Teach For America business. This is my second time to stay in Manhattan, and I am so very far from being acclimatized. It literally drains me. Everything is a hassle, and almost nothing (except sub-par Chinese cuisine) is convenient. Sure, you can buy a designer bag and take your pick of coffee shops and drug stores, but what if you need something completely practical—like a curtain rod. I would rather go broke on cab fair than walk down the Manhattan obstacle courses known as sidewalks with a curtain rod.

Anyway, here I am in the city of cities surrounded by 100 idealistic Type A’s whose self-defining catchphrase happens to be “relentless pursuit of results.” Needless to say, my introverted spirit is starting to get woozy. I’ve been putting up an admirable effort to stay engaged, but my batteries are getting low and I need to recharge. Just when we launched into the 6 hour structured problem solving segment, I heard something familiar and somewhat bizarre. Music. Church music, in fact. It was an a cappella group from the choir practicing upstairs. It’s hard to fully articulate my reaction, but when I heard that music, something inside of me unwound. I was soothed and comfortable, and I don’t feel that way during large group gatherings. When the music ended, so did my confidence.

I admire those people who feed off of others constantly. The longer they’re surrounded, the more energy they get. Conversely, I need to be alone to build energy. I go through spurts when I’m in a crowd. I will be talkative and alive for a time, and then suddenly crash and slink away to the outdoors or some quiet bathroom to collect myself. In Manhattan, the outdoors is out of the question. No matter where one goes, there are MORE PEOPLE, more noise, and less sky. Someone please teach me how to think in this city.

Long Live NPR

The work day can be divided into chunks of time, mangeable portions defined primarily as pre-lunch or post-lunch.  There’s the morning hour, glinting ever so slightly with the promise of a young day.  Then, the pre-lunch hour, when I’m giddy at the prospect of hot potato cheese soup from the cafeteria next door.  Afternoon chunks are harder to define and much harder to enjoy.  It’s impossible to be excited until at least 4:30, the beginning of the “home stretch” chunk.  That excruciating time in between, after lunch but before the home stretch, is a wasteland.  Productivity?  Don’t think so.  Not when the minutes creep by like a trip to the DMV.

OK, maybe I don’t have the right to complain anymore.  I’ve found a remedy, a sweet concoction that makes the pill go down very smoothly.  It’s aural and cerebral snack food, and it’s called iTunes radio.  You mean, I can ride the Apple bus without actually owning an iPod?   Exactly.  The most exciting part of the whole thing is that I don’t have to surf around for the streaming station that sucks least.  No, I can browse choices in conveniently labeled folders that are nestled happily in my iTunes window.

I have always been an NPR fanatic, but iTunes radio has elevated me to psycho-obsession status.  Don’t think about interrupting Talk of the Nation, and God forbid I have to do something like use the restroom during KQED’s Forum.   I have never been so interested in topics like Iranian folk music or the complex theories of our new Nobel chemist.  The programming feeds my intellect and stimulates critical thought; newly inspired creativity wafts like a sea breeze over the wasteland hours.  Face it, when TV news stations  rely on “Now in HD!” to promote their broadcasts, NPR is a welcome breath of Fresh Air.  (Nice use of pun, if I may say so.)