My New York Christmas memory

On a miserably rainy day much like this one, I visited New York for the first time. Driving into work this morning reminded me of that strange trip that is perhaps one of my fondest memories of college.

Two guys on my dorm floor and I were developing a fairly close friendship by December of 1993. We were the three geek outcasts on our floor of communications majors, and as most outcasts do... they find the other outcasts and join up, even though they didn't have much in common. One of them, Sean, was a journalism major from Stoughton, just south of Boston. Early in the semester, the three of us began heading down to Stoughton on some weekends, spending the nights at Sean's house, and doing a little exploring of New England.

In early December, Sean stopped by my room and asked if I'd be interested in tagging along for a trip to NYC. Apparently his mother and two friends went down every December, but the two friends had to cancel due to some church event at the last minute, and Sean's mom had given him a call. It was a tour package that couldn't be cancelled on, and she figured that maybe the two of us would like to go.

We got up before dawn that Saturday to climb into an express bus to New York. (I'd never been on a coach-style bus before, either, so that was... weird). Four hours later, the bus went over a bridge, and I saw my first glimpse of New York as the road wound its way through the Bronx, and then the bus took a turn into Manhattan. I'm not sure what route we took, but I remember seeing a sign for "Harlem" something.

My eyes were glued to the window in fascination. I was in New York. Look at it all! All of the old buildings. People walking everywhere. Neighborhood markets. Little bistro restaurants. A sea of yellow taxis.

I drunk it all in.

You have to realize that while growing up, New York was literally a mythical city of wonder. It was so far away that it existed only in movies, books, and dreams. I honestly wouldn't have been able to see a difference between the exotic locales in India and New York as a child. Now here I was, looking out at the city with my own eyes. It was a complete rush.

The bus finally reached the Port Authority, where we exited the bus and started a walk to get to Radio City Music Hall (another fabled place). We were going to see the Christmas Spectacular and the Rockettes.

Radio City Music Hall is huge. And incredibly detailed in a way that can only be in New York. As we went to our seats in the balcony, I could only gape up at the towering ceiling and consciously fight to keep my mouth from dropping open.

And then the show started. It started as a normal play. Pretty cute. I started to recognize songs with a reaction of "Oh, so THAT's what that's from...". And then the weirdness of New York, and of that amazing stage at Radio City, came in. An ice rink came up from the underbelly of the theater-- and a couple began ice skating. (on stage! Goo!). The Rockettes danced several numbers throughout the performance, bringing memories of quick costume changes to my mind from my position in the upper troupe in my dance recitals. I honestly wish I'd had a chance to see them as a child-- because all of a sudden, I understood why my dance teacher had been emphasizing all of the formations. From up in the audience, they really did look amazing. Perhaps I could appreciate them that much more than Sean, since I'd spent my Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights in junior high and high school trying to do similar things on high-heeled tap shoes.

At the end of the show, the stage went dark and the veil curtain closed, providing the stage crew a way to change the scenery while action continued in front of the curtain. A story from the Gospels about the birth of Jesus was read over the speakers and accompanied by soft music from the orchestra. As the story continued, an actor playing Joseph led a donkey, carrying Mary, across the stage toward the unseen Bethlehem. The actors moved behind the curtain into the darkened stage, past the ghostly outline of what would become the stable.

The spotlight widened as the announcer finished the story of Jesus. The holy family was complete as a baby was placed in the manger. It was quite touching, honestly.

A choir begain to sing "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing" as the backlit stage lights began to slowly brighten. People began walking on stage, leading animals on to the stage- goats, donkeys, camels (they had camels!!). The actors positioned themselves and the animals as the song continued. As the crescendo of the song crested, the sight before me literally thumped my chest, and for the first time at a theater, tears came into my eyes.

I was looking at a life-sized Nativity. Every peace was there. Every. single. piece. With humans as the pieces, perfectly still. The effect was instantaneous. The audience roared in applause- clearly others were moved as I was.

My life was moving into a non-Christian path by this time in my life, but everything about what I saw was so beautiful and spiritual, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't doubting my choices at that moment.

I didn't want it to end, but it did have to, as all great performances do. We shuffled out into the street and headed over to Rockefeller Center. People were leaning over the wall to look at the skating rink below. People were everywhere. There were lights everywhere, and the largest Christmas tree I'd ever seen placed before us. It was quite cold and raw, though, and Sean's mom led us to Sak's Fifth Avenue for a little browsing (no shopping... dear lord, the costs were deadly!). Sean and I noticed that they had Santa at Saks, and decided to get our picture taken (my last one, of course). He was, in fact, a very upscale Santa... wearing the finest of velvet clothing and was a man with a real Santa beard.

Only the finest Santa can be found at Saks, after all.

By the time we were done with photos and shopping, it was starting to get late. But Sean really wanted to go back to the ice skating rink. We walked right up-- completely oblivious of the fact that there was probably a line to get onto the ice-- and got right in. We rented skates, and were swirling around Rockefeller Center's ice rink in front of Prometheus within a matter of minutes. It was softly raining, which helped keep a fresh zamboni'ed surface on the ice as we went around. Music from the Christmas Spectacular played. A few more talented skaters did perfect spins in the center of the ice.

We headed back up to Boston that evening on a return bus. Both Sean and I slept most of the way back.

I'm sure the visions of sugar plums came dancing in my dreams.