I lived in Manhattan in the mid-Sixties and I developed a Most Unwanted list of The Subway Penises, depending on where on my body the offending organ was rubbed. There were also the people who leaned into my face and screamed and spat. I am afraid I don't remember a single even neutral subway trip unless I was accompanied by a man. Which in itself is a negative.
I certainly had some of those strange subway encounters, too, mostly guys who groped or licked their lips or said disgusting things, but they were the exception to the rule in the 1980s. I clobbered one creep who followed me off a train with a copy of Cosmo!
Once in the early 80’s I met what was likely the biggest “hick” in my life. He was from Queens but was currently living in Dallas. He had taken the Greyhound from Dallas to downtown Denton (25 miles up I-35) to see Golden Triangle Mall. He looked like Nora Dunn’s character, Pat, with dark curly head and a western, pearl snapped shirt. My boyfriend and I I gave him a ride the rest of the way to the mall and learned that he had been forced out of his rent controlled apartment in Queens where he had lived his whole life. He asked himself where he should go next and decided that since he loved two things - country music and shopping malls - the obvious choice was Dallas, TX. Although he picked well on those two items, he was unprepared for the necessary driving.
I think about him often. I hope he found all the joy he was looking for. Maybe he headed back to Queens or maybe learned to drive. Or maybe found joy to rely on the kindness or strangers and Uber.
Love this. Even though I’ve lived in very rural Iowa all my life, I hate car culture and love to visit cities with good public transport. Your essay speaks to my heart about what’s wrong with so much of American towns and cities.
Love this personal essay. I’m visiting my daughter in St Paul right now and it’s fun to read this. My other daughter is in NY. Engaging and vulnerable writing. Thank you.
Wow. What plethora of seeming contradictions. The first person in written history to call New York “provincial”. But I understand that living in the bubble boundaries of nuclear families, culture. class or even heroin can render us provincial.
And moving to the “Twin Cities” for liberation? WTF?🤷🏼♂️
But in parallel universe ways, I always loved Noo Yawk. But my first legit job as an assistant professor left me imprisoned in Ann Arbor, the mid-western version of cosmopolitan.
I missed New York every day for 13 years. And yes, like Steinberg everything else was “over there” (“dorten” 💁🏼♂️in Yiddish).
What “cured” me of my NY chauvinism was rehab of a different order—a Fulbright to of all places Cardiff Wales and meeting marginal expats from Poland, South Africa, N.Ireland, Barbados and seeing Itzhak Perlman perform with Vladmir Ashkenazi as very young men before they could get a gig at Carnegie Recital Hall and I realized for the first time that it wasn’t New York per se, like Billy Joel said “a frame of mind” that but extends beyond New York to the world of marginals like me.
I got over New York thanks to going to school in Massachusetts and Michigan which has been my home for over half my life. In NYC it's too easy to think you're at the center of the world--especially if you're a writer.
I also grew up in New York and while I now live a few hours north I still marvel at the subway on my frequent visits to the city I still call home. The amazing thing about New York is that millions of people manage to mostly get along and the mass transit system reveals that to me on every journey. What I miss most is that before everyone could self-entertain with their smartphones, I used to have memorable encounters with other riders. People would comment on the book I was reading and we'd chat for a few stops. I'd admire someone's super cool outfit. Or sometimes it was just a day dreamy across the aisle mini crush that lasted from 42nd Street to Park Slope. I have just returned from visiting several European cities that have great mass transit--trams are fun but lack the blasting excitement of the subway. I can drive but like many born-and-raised NYers I don't enjoy it at all. I wish more small American cities could experience the delights of living without a car. We would all be better for it.
As a life-long bus user in three different states, none of which are Minnesota, I can attest to the truth of this. Although I prefer D.C.'s Metro to the New York Subway: cleaner and more architecturally cool. I also like Portland, Oregon's TriMet, but that could just be because Portland's vibe is cool, not necessarily its transit system.
If you had told me when I was living and commuting in NYC in the early 2000s that one day I'd read a piece that made me romanticize the subway, I would have thought you mental. I did love the democratization, the people watching and the people watching out for each other, even when they're grumpy. I remember too, noticing the various class-dependent reactions to in-car drama. And the different reactions to missing the train from scowling to laughing it off like, "Ha ha! Oh, you got me again, F!" But I'm afraid, the nostalgia this piece inspired, has me missing something that in reality required skills far beyond my reach. In my case, the subway demanded a self-induced buffering system that would mostly malfunction due to input that constantly overwhelmed my sensitivity. But the feeling this piece recalls of stepping out into a neighbourhood significantly different from the one I had left moments ago...one of the more magical moments I've ever had. Thanks for capturing it!
You made me nostalgic for my short Long Island City to Manhattan commute. In 1984 the 7 (Flushing) train was brand new. No one lived in LIC at the time; I couldn't tell cab drivers where I was going before I got in or they'd take off.
The orange and silver 7 trains were like space age flying cars we'd been promised. Walk down the grubby stairs at Vernon-Jackson and in 5 minutes you were in Grand Central Station! Change trains and you could be anywhere in minutes. I loved the subway.
Lovely. I am addicted to my life in the woods and have many of the same feelings the writer has about the subway!
I often wish the mid-Hudson Valley, where I now live, had a subway system!
I lived in Manhattan in the mid-Sixties and I developed a Most Unwanted list of The Subway Penises, depending on where on my body the offending organ was rubbed. There were also the people who leaned into my face and screamed and spat. I am afraid I don't remember a single even neutral subway trip unless I was accompanied by a man. Which in itself is a negative.
I certainly had some of those strange subway encounters, too, mostly guys who groped or licked their lips or said disgusting things, but they were the exception to the rule in the 1980s. I clobbered one creep who followed me off a train with a copy of Cosmo!
Love this!
Once in the early 80’s I met what was likely the biggest “hick” in my life. He was from Queens but was currently living in Dallas. He had taken the Greyhound from Dallas to downtown Denton (25 miles up I-35) to see Golden Triangle Mall. He looked like Nora Dunn’s character, Pat, with dark curly head and a western, pearl snapped shirt. My boyfriend and I I gave him a ride the rest of the way to the mall and learned that he had been forced out of his rent controlled apartment in Queens where he had lived his whole life. He asked himself where he should go next and decided that since he loved two things - country music and shopping malls - the obvious choice was Dallas, TX. Although he picked well on those two items, he was unprepared for the necessary driving.
I think about him often. I hope he found all the joy he was looking for. Maybe he headed back to Queens or maybe learned to drive. Or maybe found joy to rely on the kindness or strangers and Uber.
Love this. Even though I’ve lived in very rural Iowa all my life, I hate car culture and love to visit cities with good public transport. Your essay speaks to my heart about what’s wrong with so much of American towns and cities.
Seattle is amazing, as is San Francisco.
This is exactly the kind of writing I signed up for Substack to read. Love this!
Not to mention you can READ on the subway or bus and you don't have to pay attention--I miss it still!
Oh my gosh yes, I had a Walkman that often had dead batteries... I wore the earplugs while I read just for the privacy.
Love this personal essay. I’m visiting my daughter in St Paul right now and it’s fun to read this. My other daughter is in NY. Engaging and vulnerable writing. Thank you.
Perfect timing!
Wow. What plethora of seeming contradictions. The first person in written history to call New York “provincial”. But I understand that living in the bubble boundaries of nuclear families, culture. class or even heroin can render us provincial.
And moving to the “Twin Cities” for liberation? WTF?🤷🏼♂️
But in parallel universe ways, I always loved Noo Yawk. But my first legit job as an assistant professor left me imprisoned in Ann Arbor, the mid-western version of cosmopolitan.
I missed New York every day for 13 years. And yes, like Steinberg everything else was “over there” (“dorten” 💁🏼♂️in Yiddish).
What “cured” me of my NY chauvinism was rehab of a different order—a Fulbright to of all places Cardiff Wales and meeting marginal expats from Poland, South Africa, N.Ireland, Barbados and seeing Itzhak Perlman perform with Vladmir Ashkenazi as very young men before they could get a gig at Carnegie Recital Hall and I realized for the first time that it wasn’t New York per se, like Billy Joel said “a frame of mind” that but extends beyond New York to the world of marginals like me.
I got over New York thanks to going to school in Massachusetts and Michigan which has been my home for over half my life. In NYC it's too easy to think you're at the center of the world--especially if you're a writer.
A beautiful reminder that great cities are defined not just by places, but by the connections that bring people together.
That last line!!! Such a great read. Thanks so much for this.
She is incredible.
I also grew up in New York and while I now live a few hours north I still marvel at the subway on my frequent visits to the city I still call home. The amazing thing about New York is that millions of people manage to mostly get along and the mass transit system reveals that to me on every journey. What I miss most is that before everyone could self-entertain with their smartphones, I used to have memorable encounters with other riders. People would comment on the book I was reading and we'd chat for a few stops. I'd admire someone's super cool outfit. Or sometimes it was just a day dreamy across the aisle mini crush that lasted from 42nd Street to Park Slope. I have just returned from visiting several European cities that have great mass transit--trams are fun but lack the blasting excitement of the subway. I can drive but like many born-and-raised NYers I don't enjoy it at all. I wish more small American cities could experience the delights of living without a car. We would all be better for it.
I started reading it and then recognised it part of the way in... I love this piece!
Me, too!
As a life-long bus user in three different states, none of which are Minnesota, I can attest to the truth of this. Although I prefer D.C.'s Metro to the New York Subway: cleaner and more architecturally cool. I also like Portland, Oregon's TriMet, but that could just be because Portland's vibe is cool, not necessarily its transit system.
My brilliant niece drives a bus for tri-met. It's such a cool city.
If you had told me when I was living and commuting in NYC in the early 2000s that one day I'd read a piece that made me romanticize the subway, I would have thought you mental. I did love the democratization, the people watching and the people watching out for each other, even when they're grumpy. I remember too, noticing the various class-dependent reactions to in-car drama. And the different reactions to missing the train from scowling to laughing it off like, "Ha ha! Oh, you got me again, F!" But I'm afraid, the nostalgia this piece inspired, has me missing something that in reality required skills far beyond my reach. In my case, the subway demanded a self-induced buffering system that would mostly malfunction due to input that constantly overwhelmed my sensitivity. But the feeling this piece recalls of stepping out into a neighbourhood significantly different from the one I had left moments ago...one of the more magical moments I've ever had. Thanks for capturing it!
Excellent, evocative, to-the-point writing.
You made me nostalgic for my short Long Island City to Manhattan commute. In 1984 the 7 (Flushing) train was brand new. No one lived in LIC at the time; I couldn't tell cab drivers where I was going before I got in or they'd take off.
The orange and silver 7 trains were like space age flying cars we'd been promised. Walk down the grubby stairs at Vernon-Jackson and in 5 minutes you were in Grand Central Station! Change trains and you could be anywhere in minutes. I loved the subway.