I had another interview today, this time with a disarmingly prestigious media consultancy group in the Chrysler building. So, I dusted off my interview trousers (which I haven't had to bust out in a disconcerting while), slipped on a fetching purple tie and caught the 6 train uptown. But because I'm such a punctual neurotic, I got to Grand Central about forty-five minutes ahead of schedule. This is something that happens to me constantly. Regardless of the function, I tend to arrive at my destinations way before it's necessary. I used to arrive at parties, only to be greeted by the sound of hair dryers behind the front door. What usually happens is that I end up walking around the block a bunch of times. Still, it beats being late.
So, standing in the middle of Lexington Avenue and 42nd street in my best corporate suck-up duds with nothing to read by copies of my own resume, I decided that I might as well give the neighborhood a good stroll. It being an absolutely spectacular day, this option didn't seem all that bad (although I was starting to sweat beneath my collar, which is never good). I walked East, towards the shimmering river and the monolithic outline of the U.N., finding myself smack dab in Tudor City.
I really don't know much about the background of Tudor City, I'm sorry to say, although I quite like its arcane architectural motif and its neighborhoody vibe. Back in grade school, I had a friend named Richard who lived in one of these buildings. I walked by it this morning, and was instantly transported to the dim, water-colory mid-70s when he and I would play in the building's adjacent courtyard. Rich and I ended up going to the same high school as well. He was one of the first kids I know to get into Punk rock. He transferred high schools halfway through and later dropped out, I believe. The last time I saw him, he was clad head to toe in tye-dye, sporting a billy goat beard and singing the theme song to "The Jetsons" in Central Park. I wonder where he is today.
I returned to Tudor City sometime in the mid-90's. I was attending a party (which I invariably arrived way early to) and was probably struck with the same memories of my old friend Rich. Today, the neighborhood looks virtually untouched from those days in the 70's, although I think the park areas are a little nicer. Maybe that's because I immediately project a thick patina of atmospheric grime on all my memories of NYC in the 1970s. Too many viewings of "Marathon Man," "The Taking of Pelham 123" and "The French Connection," probably.
Throughout my walk, I couldn't help but get Blondie's "Union City Blue" stuck in my head, swapping out the "Union" for "Tudor." When I finally walked back to the Chrysler building (which is indeed magnificent, by the way), I still had it playing in my head. I neglected to hum it during my interview, probably for the wiser.
This afternoon, I was surprised to find that an official video for the song actually exists (and who knew Debbie played guitar?). Some fine shots of the Manhattan skyline herein. And maybe if you squint quickly enough, you can even see the spires of Tudor City.
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