The Great Jews of Great Falls: A Passover Musing Replacing Andy Rooney with Andy Warhol/The Last Few Minutes of 60 Minutes
Apr 25

 

  

What law of physics explains the motion of the adjacent subway car always appears more jarring than the car I am on? Please respond with non-copyright mathematical formula.

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“Blowtorch and a putty knife,” answered the doorman on the tony Upper East Side, when I politely asked why there are no gum spots stuck to his sidewalk.

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Manhattan mannhole Covers:

CON ED: Consolidated Edison.

NYWS: New York Water & Sewer.

DWS: Da Wada an’ Sewa?

DPW: Da Pow-wa an’ Wada, what else???

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Small plaque @ 3rd Street Station NYC:”Hospital for Joint Disorders”. Ideal patient: mobility-impaired conjoined twin with a weed problem.

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Overheard at CLAY gym on 14th Street:

Trainer: What kind of exercise are you doing now?

New Member: I used to have sex with my girlfriend before we broke up. What exercise is most like sex?

Trainer: That depends. Why did your girlfriend break up with you?’

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Ratio of cows to people in Montana? 2:1

Ratio of rats to people in Manhattan?

A matter of controversy, ranging from 6:1 to 10:1+. In Montana, our herds of animals are an industry. New Yorkers poison theirs. Maybe they ought to start wranglin’ rats in the Subway stations. I want to see someone dressed like Roy Rogers down there, straddlin’ the tracks, crackin’ the lasso to the strains of “Get Along Little Ratty.”

                                                                                              

 

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There is no such thing as a good looking men’s dress shoe.  Leather submarines, small European watercraft, shoes with very shiny pointed toes (don’t ask what they use for polish).

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The curious substitution of the word for a wooden-handled sharp instrument used to fell trees  with a three letter word meaning

 “to inquire”. 

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  Keep looking for Lex Luthor’s lair. If anyone sees Ned Beatty, please trail him and call my cell. 

                                                                                      

 

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The rule of inverse proportions: footwear vs. diamonds. The smaller the shoe, the more adorable; the bigger the rock, the more desirable. A size ten loafer and a half carat ain’t gonna cut it in Manhattan.

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The platform on the 1 Train has been under construction at 59th Street for at least three years. I am tempted, when seeing the dilapidated state of the project after my trip to the opera, to alter the sign: “Platform Under DEstruction”

                                                                                 

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What’s with these Jewish guys who look vaguely Hasidic? Instead of looking like extras from Fiddler, these zaftig guys look like they’re partners in a plus-size zoot suit factory. And unlike The Chosen, who avert their black-rimmed spectacles, so many of these fellows are overtly horny (and slightly desperate to be looking at me). Who are they? The Second Choice?

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Been to Mumbai in the monsoon? Been in a NYC subway station after a rainstorm? Mumbai gutter, just outside the Oberoi is the outdoor version of the 23rd Street Station. No shit. I mean, shit.

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I understand that humans are social creatures, but anything that causes our species to swarm aimlessly devalues humanity (Times Square).  Like mayonnaise, humans may be appealing when spread thinly, but we are unappetizing in large globs.

                                                                                                                                                     

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A woman dropped her purse on the subway tracks and made the mistake of attempting to retrieve it. When passers-by yelled at her to lay flat in the Mumbai sewage (see above note) she decided to squeeze into the 1 ½” space between the subway and the platform.  An eyewitness said when the first car hit her, it sounded like a popping paper bag.

After that incident I tried to find a seat in the middle of the train.              

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Human brains are like Silly Putty. When our minds are pulled in many directions, we lack depth. We sag. It’s easy to see thtrough us. When we lump ourselves into little balls, it’s easy to roll around in a self-absorbed stupor, gathering the hairy lint of relationships or creative pursuits.

The finest minds, when flattened, imprint and integrate. Silly Putty on newsprint, roll up and roll on. The tragic ones get dropped, slide down the sewer, and sometimes, when the gasses are just right, they explode. 

One Response to “The New York Observer”

  1. Larry Says:

    Claire,
    As always your observational wit is so sharp, I fear that I may poke my eye out while reading. You caused me to actually laugh out. Loud yes, lol in a crowded national coffee chain location, (that needs no. Free advertising)
    Thank you and keep up the great work!
    Larry

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