My Fairytale of New York comes to a Pogues #24

From July, 2015

I saw a man crumble and deteriorate today. Never before have I seen so many people correctly decide not to laugh as this man’s stand-up career very quickly plummeted to its deep, dark and deserved end. It's one thing to nervously ruin your whole set without any wit, character or even the slightest clue, but to then undermine and blame the few non-English speaking audience members on their lack of understanding for your demise is a step too far. He was rightfully slow-clapped off and banned from ever entering our hostel and the state of New Jersey ever again.

The best musical performance of the month was all by chance at a ‘pay what you like’ viewing, this time at the New York Historical Society in Upper West Side. Although I was only going to view the galleries, it appeared that a free concert was about to begin. I took my seat and would have spent my Friday evening doing nothing other than listening to the truly exceptional choir voices of adult singing group Just Friends. The event was celebrating the developments the society had made in regards to racial acceptance, so tear-jerking renditions including Ella Fitzgerald’s ‘Strange Fruit’ and Nina Simone’s ‘I Wish I Knew How To Be Free’ were fitting. A comical original and a natural relationship with the audience meant the whole room felt apart of the performance. Towards the end, a classic American freedom song cheesily had everyone on their feet, singing along and joining hands. The dynamic balance of the five-some was a joy to witness, and it was made even more emotional as it was their first performance in three years following the passing of the group leader’s husband, who was also a former member.

Buskers were becoming more common across the city, particularly on the subway platforms. One late night out in the city, an elderly gentleman was sat playing his CD player through speakers, singing to backing tracks. His rendition of Otis Redding’s ‘These Arms of Mine’ and ‘My Girl’ were heart-wrenching and were certainly worth my couple of dollars and a platform applause. Polish this off with a classic from Eddie Murphy’s brilliant Coming to America and I had experienced more impressive entertainment that night waiting for my train than I had at any comedy and music clubs. Even Broadway in Bryant Park - presented by the largely unfunny Penn and Teller - with previews from the casts of Stomp, Wicked, Matilda and more, could not compete.

When happily filling my salad box at the frequently visited Moaz on 36th Street, a young, incredibly well-spoken man said: ‘do you not say excuse me? You're getting rather close’. As a (I think) well-mannered British man who is very aware of his personal space and one to usually apologise without thinking, I unexpectedly replied ‘I do, but I believe I'm not getting too close’. Serious tension was created between myself and someone else for the first time since being in the country and – surprise surprise – it was with another Brit.

The air in Tokyo was like a breath of fresh air compared to NYC. Why people feel the need to wear face masks in Eastern Asia and not in Manhattan baffles me. If you try to yawn, you're forced to withdraw as the overwhelming stench of p**s and s**t rapidly restricts your muscles so you're left with a poisonous taste, leaving you feeling the strain when you open your mouth. However, you have no choice but to try again and allow the unwanted vicious cycle to continue until you inevitably vomit.

The most sickening Chinatown I have visited is in Manhattan’s Lower East Side. With decreasingly little clean air and piles of trash and garbage (rubbish) facing you in every direction, you struggle between keeping your lungs successfully pumped and watching your every step so you don't tread on the thousands of scurrying rats which cross your path deep into the night. Although Manhattan can be one of the most desirable places on the planet, it can also demonstrate the worst of humankind with the lack of concern for the environment and the number of poor, confused and often helpless souls in need of serious care and support.

I've never regretted offering someone a beer so much. Just when I thought I'd seen pretentiousness at its height, I met Sebastian, although he generally goes by all nine of his names. He had given most of them to himself to signify aspects of his personality. For example, Sebastian was chosen as he was required to have a Catholic name and he was musical and wanted to pay tribute to Bach. He repeated of how privileged he was to be in my presence after having known him for a matter of minutes. He then took it out of his own initiative to painfully show me his poetry and lyrics.

‘Join us, we’re talking about enlightenment’. Sebastian chose these as his first words when speaking to a young Turkish man who clearly struggled with English. The poor guy didn't know what he'd let himself in for. He, like I, zoned out from the first word spoken as his entire drivel of riddles were preposterous. I tuned back in briefly when he spoke of his music festival performances, but then I asked where in the U.S. he was from and he replied; ‘I like to say earth when people ask me’. It was at this point I decided to immediately exit the conversation, and the room.

Brooklyn was explored with a lucky friend as we spent a day at the heart-stopping Luna Park theme park on Coney Island’s famous beach. Despite needing to support and assure my companion, the likes of the Soarin Eagle and Thunderbolt had me shaking in my little moon boots. We visited local bars and restaurants, the impressive Brooklyn Botanic Garden and saw The Big Lebowksi on an outdoor screen at a bar, before going back to our homely bed and breakfast.

I have never seen so many naturally beautiful women in one place before. At a point, it became oh too overwhelming, so I decided to move on to give my eyes a well-deserved rest. So next on the itinerary are the sunny beaches of the little-researched Costa Rica, Mexico, Hawaii and Australia; where I can finally relax without having to be hassled by gorgeous women every block (street) I walk down…