Showing posts with label Upstate New York. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Upstate New York. Show all posts

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Empire State of One Mind




Kids and I are back in my old hometown for the weekend, visiting with my father and his wife.

Whenever I get down out of the Vermont hills, I am always gobsmacked at how different my adopted Vermont home is from this world, which I think of as "the Rest of America" or "ROA". So many retail establishments! So many cars, suburbs, ethnic groups, big highways etc. Also, so much history, most of it industrial, lots of it cultural.

My but those New Yorkers of yesteryear were vigorous and earnest! Think Roosevelt, think Rockefeller and all their ilk. Their legacy is much on view all around this part of the world.

We went to the New York State Museum this morning which currently has an exhibit on Woman's Suffrage (the home base of the movement in the U.S. was Seneca Falls in western New York) and also a collection of photos from Eastman House. (George Eastman was a Rochester boy). Of course Schenectady of a hundred years ago was an industrial behemoth, home to the mammoth General Electric works and American Locomotive. GE, or big bits of it, remain here. The locomotive factory is a giant, brick husk sitting silently on many brown acres above the Mohawk.

They thought big in New York, at least once upon a time. You can see it still here in these upstate cities and towns. The managerial class had their mansions and those are still here. Although many of them have been converted into funeral homes or chopped up into apartments or suffered worse fates, most seem to have survived as family homes. Looking at them today as we drove from downtown Albany to downtown Schenectady on a road laid out perfectly straight during the 18th Century, it occurred to me again Vermont is not and never has been a place friendly to grand ambition. I think an honest state motto for us would be, "it's good enough!" The Vermont soul does not want to spend; it wants to get by with what it has had. It wants to make due. This mentality is part of what has preserved the place, to the extent it has been preserved.

But where would be without that New York spirit? (Which now seems to have blown over to California, or father into the Pacific). I have to say, I admire it and at least some of what it left behind.

Of course, the current reality of the non-Mansion class here is, frankly, depressing. The solid old houses peter out quickly as one departs the old downtowns. Along that straight road between Albany and Schenectady lie all the seedy stores and quasi-slum housing that characterizes the exurbia of the East Coast ROA.

In a few blocks, as we headed up out of Albany, we were riding past tatoo parlors, tax preparation franchises (why so many these days?) car dealers, and cockroachy-looking shops. (My favorite was "Sham Candy and Tobacco." Presumably the real candy and tobacco is available in better neighborhoods). Close to downtown Schenectady were a couple of motels known even in my high school days as dens of iniquity of the prostitutional variety. One was advertising, "special weekday rates", which I assume meant partial day rates. This dreary spectacle goes on for the full 15 miles that separates the two cities.

At the end of our road today, however, was a bright spot, the very oldest part of Old Schenectady, which is old by North American standards. It is the section of town known as "the Stockade," and it was first settled in 1661 by Dutch merchants. My Dad lived down here during my high school years, shortly after the Dutch were routed by the local Indians, and he and I spent many happy hours around this part of town.

Today, I took the kids to see the old house where he had his apartment and also made them march around a couple of blocks. They protested but I persisted. When I stopped to take pictures of a church, St. George's Episcopal, that I had always admired the priest saw me and invited us in. He was an Englishman, and I asked him if he had been brought over to serve here and he joked (I think), "Yes, as a penance".

The church was as beautiful inside as out. It always struck me as a bit of England in New York and course, that's what it is. When they built it in 1735 and then again in 1762, it was still English territory. Since it served as a barracks in the Revolutionary War, it's American credentials are beyond question, but since we're all friends again and we can all admire its Englishness.

If I were being honest, or at least thorough, about the local scenery I would have pictures for you of the Sham Candy store and the Executive Motor Inn. I actually thought of taking pictures, but I was worried about firing the suspicions of clerk/owners with guns under their cash registers. Also, it is the church, that I want to remember and the thing that you can't see along every main drag in the country, so here ya go.







Saturday, September 06, 2008

Upstate New York - Land of Enchantment and Proper Cheeseburger Deluxe



If you have been following along you know that I spent last weekend visiting my parents in my natal New York State. My roots are in the uncool part of New York: Upstate, as culturally distinct from New York City as Ohio (although they probably have more ethic diversity - descendants of Italians, Jews and Greeks mostly- in upstate New York than they do in the midwest - a little more on that in a minute). Last Sunday, as you also will know if you have been following along, we went to the Highland Games. On Monday, Labor Day, we had to get back Vermont, but before leaving I thought I would take the kids over to John Boyd Thacher State Park.


(The View from the Overlook at Thacher Park)

Thacher Park is a popular getaway for the million or so people who live around Albany and as a kid and as a 20-something, when I last lived in the area, we would get over there for a field-trip or a picnic once a year or so. It is really a beautiful place and just a hop, skip and a jump from the current home of Dad and Stepmom. Again, in fulfilling my little self-appointed mission of sharing the Good Things in Life, here's a little glimpse of the part of the Park that makes it most famous: the Indian Ladder.



There are no Indians, anymore at least, and, as I discovered to my disappointment at age 9 when I first visited, no ladders either. It's the name for a cliff-face trail once used by Indians that traverses a part of the Heldeberg Escarpment. It is a rough foot path but the New York taxpayer has outfitted it nicely with stairs, here and there, rails and ropes as necessary. You couldn't do it on crutches or in a wheelchair, but Shackleton, aged 7 and the Understudy, aged 10 and wearing only sandals since our walk was slightly impromptu, managed fine.



I thought, as walked along the cliff, past the trees and under the overhanging rocks; with their periodic fine-spray waterfalls and small pools, that if there was a place in America where you might find a Totoro, this might be it.







Well, that was nice. It being Labor Day, and back to school time, walking the path our sixth grade science teacher took us down in a vain attempt to teach us something about geology was sweet. Ahh. Middle school.

On our way out of town Dad and Stepmom treated us to another New York experience: lunch at a proper NY Diner.

Vermont is not a culturally diverse place. The natives are either old Yankees or descended from French Canadians. The non-natives tend to be hippies or transplants from California and the big east coast cities. None of these groups have, generally speaking, the wherewithal to run a proper diner: by which I mean a place with booths, cheeseburger deluxe, holy cards over the cash register, and a menu that measures at least 2 feet by 2 feet.

The one we went to on Monday is a bit of an ersatz re-creation, but it feels true to Greek Diner roots. The kids call it the Shiny Diner, since it is clad in chrome. I think it's real name is the Metro Route 20. It is on, you guessed it, Route 20.





Since I had been tromping for an hour or two on the rocky path at Indian Ladder I felt justified in having cheeseburger deluxe, and a milkshake.