ALL PICTURES AND TEXT ON THIS PHOTO WEBSITE ARE COPY RIGHTED..BY DON SCHULTZ

The restaurant guide said, “Bring your cash or credit card because eating out in New York City is expensive!!” Hey, I have a news flash; everything in the Big Apple is expensive.

Let’s start with getting a roof over your head; location, location, location and location. Sure, you can stay outside the city for less. But then there is the issue of getting to where you want to be. And most visitors want to be in central Manhattan near the Theatre District or Central Park. Room rates can run from $200 to $500 up a night; yes, per night. Oh, and then you still have to park your car which will often cost $20-$30 a day. Once it is parked, you will want to leave it right in the ramp, believe us. One look at downtown New York City traffic and you will understand. Actually, you wouldn’t even have to see it. You could tell by the sound. Taxi drivers are not happy unless they are blowing their horns and at what, only God and they know. Combine that with buses, limos and waves of pedestrians walking against the light at every corner, and you will leave your car at the ramp. Housing also has a little surprise called the New York City Room Tax which runs about $50 a day dependent on the cost of your room. Oh, well, if you have to ask…………….

As for entertainment, average tickets for a Broadway show run about $90 to $120 for so, so seats and up to $250 for premium spots in the theatre. Some claim that there are no poor seats in a Broadway theatre. Well, there are a few.

So why would anyone want to spend time in the Big Apple? Well, there is just nothing like it, and as the sign says, “The minute you leave New York City, you are out of town.” And there are ways to beat the high costs.

Sara and I opted for good location and decided to “bite the bullet” for housing. We stayed at the Mayfair Manor at 424 W 49th St, just two blocks from Broadway. There was a Catholic Church, St. Malachy’s, the Actor’s Church, right across the street, much to Sara’s delight, and over 15 major theatres within easy walking distances. The room was a lot smaller than pictured in the brochure, but adequate for RVers like us, who are used to stepping over each other. The view from the sixth floor consisted of a 4 ft sliver of light between two walls of brick through a dirty, wire meshed window. But at $206 a night we thought we got a deal. We could walk to Central Park and Rockefeller Center and any theatre we wanted to with no taxi costs.

As for food, we soon learned that New York City has some of the best delis in the universe. You get a plastic or tin foil box and fill it from steaming trays of every conceivable entree combination of shrimp, salmon, chicken, beef or pasta. The fruit and salad combinations are to die for; and every conceivable dessert known to man is there, all for a mere $6.99 a pound.
How can you beat avocado salad, creamed haddock in wine sauce, potato Alfredo and a canola all in the same box? No calories there, huh. We also found a wonderful Vietnamese restaurant less than a block away that had a 4 page menu with nothing for more than $18.

You can get a break on theatre tickets if you are willing to wait in one of the longest, fastest moving lines in all of New York. Each day near Time Squares, you can stand in line for unsold theatre tickets. The most popular shows are not available but then they wouldn’t have been anyway as they are sold out months in advance. You have no control over your seat location with this dash. Everything is paid with cash or traveler checks and the guides keep shouting at a line that winds back and forth like a 100 yard string of pasta, “Keep moving, keep moving, let’s get them sold”; until all the tickets are gone in a matter of 20 minutes. We got two tickets to “The Wedding Singer” for half price and were 13 rows back from the Orchestra, on the aisle, slightly stage left. We thought we had some of the best seats in the house and, wow, what a show. The singing and dancing was superb. Critics be damned, we loved it, as did the rest of the audience who gave the cast a standing ovation. Want to see another show? Back in line the next day, but this time maybe a bit earlier.

It was back to the half price ticket line the next morning for a second play. This time we got Mama Mia for the matinee. It was raining and what better thing to do than another play. This time it was in the mezzanine and two and half hours of pure joy. The singing, dancing, scenery changes, and, oh, the music were all wonderful. Sara described it “minute for minute the best show she had ever seen.” As we walked back to the hotel, I commented on the show again and a couple walking next to us asked, “Did you see the Lion King too?” That is the beauty of Broadway. All the shows are good, or they wouldn’t be there in the first place.

Back at the hotel, Sara said she thought she might want to live in Manhattan with all the things to see and do. I quickly calculated the cost of housing, food, transportation and at least two shows she would like to see each week on retired teachers’ incomes and asked her, “Which two months of the rest of your life did you have in mind?”

The next day it was off to see the site where the World Trade Center towers once stood prior to 9-11. We decided to try the subway as the Blue Line had a station less than a block from our hotel and ended right at the base of these once majestic towers. It was Sunday and there weren’t many people around so there was no help in buying a ticket. What the New York Metro sported in simplicity when it came to the ticket purchase process was more than offset by its lack cleanliness. The cars were dirty, with a layer of grime everywhere, each window scratched with some foreign hieroglyphics known only to members of some local street gang. At beginning of each stop, the cars would lurch forward with a bone crunching jerk that would put a three hundred pound chiropractor to shame. After at least 7 of these back snapping “adjustments” we both thought our fifth and six vertebra had exchanged places.

There are no words that adequately describe the scene at 9-11. Most of the rubble is gone, but believe it or not, after almost 5 years, you can still get an occasional whiff of the destruction. It is a sickening odor, like that of a burned out tenement. The base of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center covered over 16 acres and there was so much debris after the collapse, that one can still see scratches in the stone façade of the adjacent Federal Building some eight stories up! The entire area is walled by a large metal fence, formidable, but semi transparent, due to its wicker like structure. Several hundred people silently milled around the fence, reading the signs and showing their respect to the over 3,500 people who lost their lives in a matter of minutes. We visited St. Patrick’s Episcopal Church across the street. There is a graveyard around the church, and the first several rows of tombstones, which had been crushed and were now re assembled with mortar, like ancient jigsaw puzzles, marked the edge of the debris fall line. On display were the roots of one of the trees destroyed in the blast which somehow miraculously kept the church from being destroyed.

But the most touching parts of the visit were the cross and the children’s artwork. Mounted within the walled memorial was a rusty iron cross pulled from the tons of debris, with an American flag flowing in the background. We stared at it and thought of all the innocent people who had lost their lives on an average day at work and the heroic public servants who perished trying to save them. As we left the Twin Towers area to re board the subway, we viewed the hundreds of original pictures created by the children of the victims of 9-11. It would be impossible for anyone with a heart to walk by without tears.

Sara decided that a shopping spree to Saks would raise our spirits, a sentiment not shared by Don as his mind quickly added up the expenses of the last few days. But armed with her credit card and dressed in her fanciest travel outfit, the black one instead of the red one, Sara parted the doors of the famous Saks 5th Ave. She was advised to be sure to ask how much it cost before committing to a purchase. In Saks the willingness of a salesperson to acknowledge your presence is directly proportional to that individual’s evaluation of your general appearance. Don soon gave up and sat down with a “where the hell is my wife look” while Sara was able to at least get the attention of several clerks. It must have been her silver hat. She soon determined that Saks gives a whole new meaning to the term “Sales Rack” when a $1200 bag is going for a mere $750 and a cute little white top can be had for $279. We left empty handed but with the realization that there is something obscene about having so much money that you could actually afford to buy your clothes at Saks. And besides Sara was thrilled, when as we sat at Rockefeller Center to catch our collective breaths, a woman glanced at Sara and remarked to her friend, “Oh, what a cute outfit. I wonder where she got it”! (jumper, Fashion Bug $20; shirt, Marshall’s $15; shoes, Naturalizers on sale $40; hat, Venice Beach $20; underwear, J. C. Pennys, 3 for $10, but we don’t think she could see those.) We hope not.

We walked to Central Park through the annual Israel Day Parade. There were police everywhere as thousands of school kids showed their support for the homeland amidst Palestinian youth and Hassidic Jews who had formed a mysterious alliance to shout down the parade goers. A woman in the crowd tried to explain the controversy to Sara, but the occasion Yiddish and Hebrew somehow prevented any meaningful understanding.

We took the mandatory Central Park Carriage Ride and our Irish driver almost made it worth it. But $40 for 25 minutes, well, it felt like 18, was a bit steep. He told us that we should buy land in Ireland on the coast for our next home, a real estate tip which was ignored, but not his tip, as it was built into the cost of the trip. The horse shit once.

We then found the famed MoMa or Museum of Modern Art gift store. Sara found several unique gifts for friends back home and the gay sales clerk commented, “OHHHHHH, I JUST LOVVVVVVVVVVVVE YOUR HAT. WHERE DID YOU GET IT? At that point, Sara would have purchased one of everything in the store, a thought that brought Don to his knees. Two compliments in the same day in fashion conscious New York City. Nothing could be finer. We managed to get out with only two bags full.

The last day in New York City was planned far in advance. I had constructed a large sign out of cardboard from the dumpster at the campground. We were going to be on the Today Show with Matt Lauer, Anne Curri and Al the weatherman. Our sign stated in bold letters that “We Rved from Madison, WI to say Hi to Matt, Ann and Al.” Our twenty seconds of fame could not be denied. We set the alarm for 4:30 AM and hit the streets.

A short walk to Rockefeller Center greeted us with an empty outdoor studio and no one in line. We were going to be famous. After waiting for the first half hour of what promised to be two hour wait, an NBC set director told us that we wanted to move to a second stage down the street because that is where the show was going to be shot that day; inside information. What a break. Wrong. After another half hour and no one else in line, we knew something was wrong. Back to the first area only to find a long line had already formed. Our hearts sunk but into the line we plunged. They finally opened the gates and we were in the second row, stage right, so there was still a chance for fame. Matt came out first. What a tiny figure of a man. Then came Al, much more substantial but still a mere fraction of his former rotund self. Ann Curri was slim and beautiful and Natalie Morales, a skinny knockout in a stunning knit dress, appeared last. It was makeup, camera, action and we were watching the Today Show Live from New York City.

Our hearts sank as the camera refused to pan the audience for the first half hour, and then finally a few shots, always in the wrong location. People eager to get on the show pushed toward us blocking our sign with theirs.

This was a cruel scene with everyone for themselves. Al came over and shook hands with us, read our sign and asked where we parked the RV. We shouted New Jersey and laughed. But still no camera shots. A change in tactics was required. Someone in the crowd from Racine, Wisconsin, had brought a famous kringle pastry for Al and Matt to try, and got a fabulous amount of camera time.

I moved behind the kringle caper just as one of the cameramen crawled up a ladder to get an overhead shot of the crowd. I yelled, “I will take your picture, if you take mine,” holding up the camera dangling from my neck. He nodded yes and I knew fame would soon arrive. Sure enough, in the next crowd shot, he aimed his camera at me, the red light went on and I was in the video history books so to speak, but without Sara. I was determined to get her on too. We moved back to the second stage, knowing that at the end of the show, there is always a cooking scene. We lined up between two palm trees brought in for the tropical cooking segment and waited. Sure enough, we had positioned ourselves perfectly. Natalie came over to shake our hands, and I told her I really liked her dress. She smiled.

This time Sara, the sign, the whole shebang made the show. Brief, yes, but it was so, so satisfying. We called our daughters Amy and Polly. Polly saw us and remarked that dad should have gone in to advertising, a thought that had crossed his mind several times in his last few years of teaching.

We left the area, sign tragically tossed into a nearby trash barrel, but satisfied in the knowledge that we had made the TODAY SHOW. We marveled at how skinny everyone in front of the camera was, how many hours were required to set up one tiny tape sequence and the fact that it is done day after day, week after week with so much skill and effort. We also wondered how we looked behind the camera based on our current body shapes. We were a bit fearful to see the taped copies promised by several of our friends watching the show.

We returned to our hotel room and packed our belongings. It was fairly simple, considering the size of our suitcase was approximately the same as the room, well, almost and headed out the door. We learned that hotels charge for every phone call placed on their phones. This may have given Sara pause as she had e mailed many, many times over the past three day. Oh, well, it’s only money; something one wants to bring a lot of when you worm your way through the Big Apple. We left New York and knew in a New York minute we were out of town.