My impression of New Yorkers has changed over the course of one weekend.
I’d always considered those from the Big Apple downright brusque and short-spoken.
On past trips to New York everybody seemed in such a rush and living at a hectic pace. You’ve probably heard that phrase—in a New York Minute?
The view from New York’s Central Park. (BILL RETTEW/MEDIANEWS GROUP)
Well, for a brief 36-hour trip it was me who changed and learned that New Yorkers are mostly just like everybody else.
I also learned that Central Park is huge and stretches a long, long way for 2.5 miles from 110th to 59th Street. I leisurely zig-zagged across that gorgeous park from almost top to bottom for hours, stopping at least 20 times to sit on benches, I gazed around to adore the scenery, and participated in some spectacular people watching. Things slowed down.
At a visitor’s center, a guide told me of a dozen or so points of interest that I circled on a map. I then hit everything from the colorful Conservatory Garden, to the rocky Ravine, to the Great Lawn where Simon and Garfunkel played a free show for half a million people, to a lookout high on Belvedere Castle.
Tourists and locals alike enjoy walking the converted tracks of the High Line in NYC. (BILL RETTEW/MEDIANEWS GROUP)
But I had trouble finding Strawberry Fields, a memorial to John Lennon, that I’d especially wanted to see. Almost everybody I asked for directions on the trip was super friendly, pleasant and took the time to answer my questions—at least those that spoke English.
One older gentleman changed the way I’ll forever feel about the city and its residents. When asked for directions, he told me to go to a gazebo, take a right at a path across the street and Strawberry Fields would be on the right, up a hill.
I was taking my time, and was strolling rather than chugging along at a good pace. I’d sat down for a good six or seven minutes to take in the view after asking this man for directions.
New York City’s legendary Beacon Theater. (BILL RETTEW/MEDIANEWs GROUP)
And, then he reappeared 10 minutes after our original encounter. He told me they’d moved the gazebo, that he’d come back to tell me that I’d become hopelessly lost otherwise if I followed his directions. He then gave me new directions.
This random stranger had spent considerable time out of his day making sure that I got to where I wanted to go. Oh my, how I love New York!
There were hundreds of people sitting on benches at Strawberry Fields, while singing Beatles songs. Many took photos. Many had a tear in their eye. Nearby is where John Lennon had been killed and The Dakota where he lived.
Earlier in the day, I’d walked the High Line on the West Side of Manhattan. Starting in 1934, the “West Side Elevated Line” transported millions of tons of meat, dairy and produce by rail cutting directly through some buildings, with easy access to factories.
In 2009, the first part of an above ground railway park opened to the public here and it now stretches 1.45 miles with more than 500 species of trees and plants. It is a real gem of NYC.
The perfect bench in Central Park. (BILL RETTEW/MEDIANEWS GROUP)
Near the end of the High Line, in the West Village, sits the Jane Hotel. By New York standards, my cramped, cubicle-sized room was cheap at only $149/night, but it was only 50 square feet—barely big enough for a single bed and my stuff.
But it was plenty, although I had to share a bath. It was less than a 10-minute walk from the subway. I’ll happily stay there again.
The subway is the most efficient, fastest and cheapest way to get around. Download a map to your cell and you are off. It’s a bit difficult at first to figure it out, but you can ask at a station. The tunnels aren’t air-conditioned, which is insufferable, but the cars are.
I was usually able to sit, but held on tight when standing because the car jerks and lurches around quite a bit when starting and stopping. I squeezed onto one car when I shouldn’t have and instead should have taken the next train, but everybody made room for me. They respect travelers with bags and make for a little bit of extra space.
New Yorkers dress well. Most women wore tennis skirts, cocktail-like dresses and short skirts, with nice blouses. The guys do better than my T-shirts. Everybody wears comfy shoes.
The Museum of Modern Art was a real treat. I’d gone specifically to see Andrew Wyeth’s, “Christina’s World.” It did not disappoint. I’ve stood where Wyeth stood in Maine when he painted this masterpiece. It gave me chills then and now. The brushwork is so fine and the emotions run deep.
Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” elicits a different kind of emotion and soothes the soul. The brushwork almost seems sloppy, but we all know it’s anything but.
There are some huge paintings by Jackson Pollock and you might also be tempted to say the “splotches” are hap-hazard at best, clearly though, there is definitely a method to this man’s madness and it is a joy to view the layers in the art.
Andy Warhol’s Campbell’s soup cans make you smile and Dali and his slithering watches take you to another place that you might not even want to go.
All in all you leave MOMA feeling mushy inside and content. I love New York.
Opened in 2021, Little Island sits within the Hudson River and was funded by Barry Diller and the Diller Von-Furstenburg Family Foundation.
The pier hosts fabulous views, with 350 different plantings. You climb a huge hill, with a great view of the city and river from the top. These amazing pod- like things hold the island up. I so love New York.
The main reason for my trip was to catch musician Jackson Browne in concert at the Beacon Theater. With fewer than 3,000 seats, this intimate showplace predates Radio City Music Hall. It feels like stepping into a museum from the past.
The music was wonderful and I sang along. Hope I didn’t disturb my neighbors. It was a mixed audience, with some aged in their 20s and 30s.
I’ve rekindled a love affair with the City that never sleeps on a whirlwind weekend tour and felt truly comfy and not intimidated for the first time ever in New York.
Oh my, I love New York. See you there.
Bill Rettew is a staff writer and semi-regular weekly columnist. Looks like he has written an entire column, with almost not a single mention of food. The best way to contact him is at brettew@dailylocal.com
Originally Published: August 22, 2025 at 12:55 PM EDT