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I love New York, but …

times square
There is no way that the Twin Cities can match the energy and exhilaration that is automatically produced by Manhattan’s density.

While I was in the Big Apple last week, my friend Joe texted me from Carnegie Hall to announce that the Minnesota Symphony Orchestra and Osmo Vanska would be playing two Sibelius symphonies on Sunday.

I immediately thought: What an irony, to be able to hear the locked-out Minnesota Orchestra, you had to visit Manhattan? But a half hour later, Joe sent me another text: “Sorry, sorry, sorry. It was an advertisement for the 2013-14 season.”  

But the incident points to the fact that these days a lot of what you can get and do in New York, you can pretty much get and do here. So the question I asked myself as a former New Yorker and a born-again Minneapolitan: What do they have that we haven’t got? Here’s what I looked at:


There is no way that the Twin Cities can match the energy and exhilaration that is automatically produced by Manhattan’s density — the concentration of so many people and activities in one small place. Consider this: The daytime population of Manhattan including residents, commuters, tourists, day trippers and students is about 3.87 million, according to a New York University study. That’s 25 percent more people than in our entire seven-county metro (3.17 million). And they are squished into about 34 square miles, an area about 60 percent of the size of Minneapolis alone. That’s why you find apartment buildings and offices climbing into the sky, restaurants and lunch places on every block (on both sides of the street), a huge array of stores and something to look at everywhere you turn. On the subway one afternoon, riders were treated to a crew of break-dancers who swung on poles straps, narrowly missing our jaws with sneakers as big as Cadillac Escalades.  

BUT, Oh Lordy, it is so congested. Forget about dodging phalanxes of zombie-like commuters marching toward you, staring into the screens of their smart phones and unwilling to give ground. Forget about the fact that you can’t get a taxi at rush hour, when there’s a drop of rain or at any time when you really need one because that’s when everybody else needs one, too. Forget that the only seat you can find on the subway or MetroNorth is between two people, weighing 500 pounds each. I was used to all that. What I’d forgotten about were lines. One afternoon, lusting for a Skinny Vanilla Latte, I canvassed and finally found a Starbucks. Forty-three, yes, 43 people — I counted — were ahead of me in line. Later, with a friend, I waited in line for about 20 minutes to see Macy’s Garden Show in Herald Square (the actual viewing took only 10 minutes) and 30 minutes to get into the World Trade Center Memorial (you have to get passes for a specified time online and undergo everything but a cavity search), which took only 15 minutes to view. (It’s beautiful, as is the church steeple-like tower rising above it.)


Coming back from a museum, Joe decided that our party of four should conduct a taste-test of high-end chocolate chip cookies — the kind that weigh a pound apiece and are hand-baked by people with master’s degrees in anthropology and Croatian lit. Within two blocks on the Upper West Side, we found three premium bakeries — Jacques Torres, Levain and Sugar and Plumm — all selling $4 CCCs. (Levain’s, with its walnuts, crunchy exterior and melty warm chocolate innards, came out on top, but I wouldn’t kick any of the others off my plate.) Of course, we had only scratched the surface of chocolate chip choices. When I looked on Google, I found that there were nearly 40 premium bakeries on the Upper West Side, probably all producing a top-notch CCC.

BUT choice does not always lead to human happiness. Unless we tried them all, we would never know if we had found the very best CCC. Barry Schwartz, author of “The Paradox of Choice,” has pointed out that the more choices consumers face, the more bewildered they become, sometimes lapsing into a paralysis of indecision. (After Schwartz’ book was published in 2004, many financial services companies offering 401(k)s whittled down their mutual fund array after learning that many employees failed to participate in the savings plans because they couldn’t decide among hundreds of choices.)

When I lived in New York, I remember always worrying that I hadn’t chosen the best gym, the best restaurant, the best flower shop, the best play to attend, the best museum to visit because there were always 30 more possibilities over the horizon or in the next neighborhood. I have to think that the abundance of choice contributes partly to New Yorkers’ tremendous levels of stress. In 2010, when Gallup chose to focus on that emotion, New York City ranked sixth and the Twin Cities a much more relaxed 48th. (Detroit came in No. 1, in case you wondered.)

Urban salvage

Possibly Manhattan’s most scenic recent addition is the Highline, a linear park that runs along the right-of-way of an old elevated railroad track from 31st Street to Gansevoort Street in the meatpacking district. It sits 30 feet above the ground and offers sunlight (in contrast to the the dark streets below), close-up views of the latest architectural additions (a cylindrical apartment building by Jean Nouvel and an office headquarters by Frank Gehry), some spectacular artwork (a wall mural of tin and mirrors by El Anatsui, the Nigerian artist) and occasional glimpses of the Hudson River. The contrast between the swath of green and the industrial musculature surrounding it are dramatic, to say the least.

highline photo
MinnPost photo by Marlys Harris
Much of a Highline stroll is dominated by a groundscape of empty lots and a skyscape of windowless warehouses with signs inviting New Yorkers to store the stuff they can’t fit in their apartments.

BUT less impressively, a lot of the stroll is dominated by a groundscape of empty lots and a skyscape of windowless warehouses with signs inviting New Yorkers to store the stuff they can’t fit in their apartments. Joe said, “I don’t get the Highline. It’s just a big sidewalk.” And I see his point. It’s a narrow walkway surrounded by gardens on each side. There’s no room for bikes, and raised concrete slabs and camouflaged curbs have produced falls, sprains and a $2 million lawsuit against the Parks Department by a woman who broke her ankle. The noise from nearby construction is deafening, and pollution rises upward from the busy streets below. If you’re looking for smart repurposing of city infrastructure, you have to go no further than our Midtown Greenway, which is much more verdant and usable. True, there are no Nouvel or Gehry structures alongside, but those guys already have buildings here — the Guthrie Theater and the Weisman Museum.  I guess a few oeuvres d’art wouldn’t hurt.


There’s a lot of it, no doubt. Everywhere you turn, there’s a dress store, a men’s clothing store, a jewelry shop, a shoe boutique. On Madison and Fifth Avenues, it’s one designer store after another — though most everything seems suited to women who have string-bean sized thighs and men who don’t shy away from wearing pink slacks with matching rose colored shirts.

BUT once upon a time, New York was where you went to get something you would never find elsewhere. Now you can find designer clothing everywhere and anywhere. In fact, the heart (mine anyway) cries out for stuff that doesn’t have a “name” plastered on the butt or chest. Soho, the downtown warehouse district (a forerunner of our North Loop), was the hip place to purchase art or get yourself pants or shoes that nobody else at your next cocktail party or poetry slam would ever have seen before. In recent years, however, the galleries have fled to less expensive digs uptown, and most of the shopping is dominated by chains like TopShop, Coach, Barney’s, Prada and the like. For all that, you may as well go to the Galleria, Mall of America or Grand Avenue.

Leading lights

OK, it’s true that New York probably has more notable people per acre than all cities other than maybe London and Los Angeles. For just $20 a ticket, Joe took us to the 92nd Street Y, where we were able to listen to playwright John Guare (“Six Degrees of Separation”) and critic and editor Gordon Lish introduce two new playwrights who read from their work. And we went to see Stephen Sondheim’s play “Passion,” Joe texted me: “OMG, Sondheim was in the audience!!!”

BUT we did have to buy tickets, making the 92nd Street Y event no different from attending something like MPR’s “Talking Volumes.” Just because you live or work in New York doesn’t mean that you run into Philip Roth on the street and have a deep conversation about the meaning of life. And, I wouldn’t know Stephen Sondheim if he sat right next to me — and I hope he wasn’t nearby that night, because right in the middle of “Passion,” my husband announced for all to hear, “I don’t like this play.”

The Latest Idea

So, at the Museum of the City of New York, you can find the next great thing — or I should say, the next tiny thing. Called The Launch Pad, it’s a 325-square-foot micro-apartment, which is about the size of one of those bank ATM lobbies. Designed by Clei, Resource Furniture and Amie Gross Architects, it manages to incorporate cooking, bathing (a full-size tub), sleeping and watching TV into scant square footage with a clever fold-down bed, pull-out desk, dining table and ottomans that convert into tables to produce the feeling that you’re living in something larger, say, 400 square feet. Even the flat-screen TV slides away to reveal glass shelves.

apartment photo
MinnPost photo by Marlys Harris
The Launch Pad is a 325-square-foot micro-apartment.

The idea is that there’s a mismatch between the housing available in New York, which is mostly suitable for families with children, and the city’s population, a third of which is comprised of single people who live alone. Yet, city building codes require apartments to be at least 400 square feet in size, a requirement that was enacted to do away with substandard 19th-century tenement housing. New York is now reconsidering the regulation, and Mayor Bloomberg sponsored a competition for a micro-apartment to be built on East 27th Street. Most of the competition entrants constructed stacks of units with large common spaces where residents could presumably get together to recreate.

BUT at first, the little dwelling seemed like a marvel. But after you watch a video showing a single woman living in it, you realize that there’s a lot of work involved, taking tables out, putting them back, taking out your bed, pushing it back in the wall, stacking ottomans and so on. And there’s no room for clutter — or for more than two outfits and a coat in the closet. Living there, you’d save a ton of money because you’d have no place to put anything you bought (unless you stored it in one of those warehouses along the Highline). In the end, it reminded me of my mother’s assisted living unit, which seemed a little tight at 600 square feet. All I can say is: We should count ourselves fortunate that in the Twin Cities land is not so expensive that we  have to cram people into Lilliputian spaces.

CODA. Of course, it all depends what you’re used to. One night, my husband went into a Wells Fargo ATM vestibule to get some cash. Sleeping on the carpet in front of the machine was a man who had taken his shoes off. My husband came bounding out. “I don’t want to wake him,” he said. I worried that maybe the guy was dead, but then I saw him wiggle his toes as if to say, “Ah, this is really comfortable.”

Comments (12)

  1. Submitted by Sylvia Burgos Toftness on 04/10/2013 - 10:53 am.

    Thanks for trip to home town

    Thanks for terrific account of trip back home. Great glimpse and really engaging writing. Hope to read more from you.
    A strap-hanger from the Bronx

  2. Submitted by Matt Pogatshnik on 04/10/2013 - 01:03 pm.

    Guys, Seriously

    At one point do you give up the hits from aghast readers and commenters and decide to break ties?

    The Greenway vs. Highline via broken ankles and open lots? Has Marlys been on the Greenway? That’s almost all it is and it’s still awesome. Broken ankles? Somebody nearly hit a biker with a Molotov Cocktail the other day. . . And the Greenway is still awesome.

    This and the Portland-hate Series, they do nothing. We’re here. The Twin Cities are spectacular. We don’t need to compare ourselves to other places in order to validate the things that are awesome here. New York is an INCREDIBLE place. But I want to live here. Portland is dope. But I want to live here.

    All of this “Portland/New York is this way and The Twin Cities is this way” comes off as some weird Chris Rock bit. Except it’s not funny: it’s just sad.

    How about (actually edited) articles about real issues in the Twin Cities?

    • Submitted by Tim Walker on 04/11/2013 - 08:00 am.

      How about both?

      “How about (actually edited) articles about real issues in the Twin Cities?”

      How about both?

      I mean, it’s not like MinnPost is cutting down trees to publish these essays on city living.

      They are only pixels, after all.

      And well-edited ones, at that. (Who or what was your “actually edited” dig directed at?)

      So, as my Brit fiends say: chillax, mate.

      P.S. That was a very enjoyable read, Marlys. Keep ’em coming.

  3. Submitted by Hal Davis on 04/10/2013 - 12:19 pm.

    Here vs. there

    As another New Yorker transplanted to the Twin Cities, I concur with most of these observations.

    David Rothenberg once said on WBAI that in New York, if you do one thing, you know you’re missing four other things. I’ve discovered the same cornucopia of possibilities here.

    The bookstores are as good as any in Manhattan, and almost as numerous. Maybe the bagels are better there, and possibly the pastrami.

    New York City is a 24-hour theme park. But this is a beautiful place to live.

  4. Submitted by Ray Schoch on 04/10/2013 - 02:10 pm.


    …is reality, I’ve read.

    Almost nothing that seems important to Marlys is important to me from the standpoint of lifestyle, so much of this piece leaves me cold. Like a lot of males, I don’t care about shopping. Theater’s nice, but so is the Guthrie, and if I”m looking for something off the wall, there’s something off the wall at one of the half dozen or so quite credible “alternative” theaters here. If I had to, I could adapt to New York, but I haven’t been there since I was on the cusp of adolescence, and I’ve not missed it. Of the three “big” cities in which I’ve lived — St. Louis, Denver and now Minneapolis (all of them “medium-sized” compared to a genuine metropolis like New York, London, etc.) — I liked Denver the best, and by a wide margin, but that’s a reflection of personal taste (or, if you prefer, the lack thereof). The Twin Cities aren’t awful, by any means, and probably outshine the other two in cultural terms (music, art, theater, etc.), but “culture” with a capital “C” is a second-tier concern for me. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the grandkids, and if there were no grandkids, I’d be living happily on the Front Range. Different strokes for different folks.

  5. Submitted by Jon Kingstad on 04/10/2013 - 02:19 pm.

    Unlike a lot of articles

    comparing here to “how we do it there”, this article was enjoyable and makes some valid points. After having visited New York a couple of times, and Paris and London and San Francisco, I’ve concluded that these sort of metropolises are really ‘world” cities having far more in common with one another than with other burgs in their own countries. What makes them all similar is the fact that any one of them are a lot more fun and exciting than anywhere else in the respective countries provided you have the large amounts of money to afford the expensive amenities that makes living there tolerable. Minneapolis has some of that and it aspires to have that soulless aspect which is one reason I don’t care much for it. But it still is no “world city” like New York.

  6. Submitted by Rich Ahrens on 04/10/2013 - 08:57 pm.


    Try finding a full sour pickle around the Cities. The last reliable source I knew was Pastrami Jack’s out in Eden Prairie. They brought in barrels of them from the Bronx.

  7. Submitted by Paul Udstrand on 04/11/2013 - 09:29 am.

    I like Marlys and her column

    I don’t always agree, but that’s thought provoking. Marlys writes critically, and you can’t do that without a comparison once and while. You can’t always know what’s good or bad or what can be different simply by looking in the mirror. The idea here isn’t to cultivate an opinion as to whether or not MN is better or worse than Portland or NY, it’s to compare and contrast different cities. Sometimes you don’t appreciate what you have until you compare it to something else, and sometimes you think you’ve got the best until you see something better. A weekly column of nothing but parochial boosterism is: A) already being done elswhere, and B) boring as toast.

    My only complaint about this piece is that typical New York tendency towards geographic elitism, it’s like bragging about how well you know the city and it’s exclusive knowledge, i.e. the Highline runs from 31st street to Gavensport. That’s soooo New York and it tells us nothing, could be two blocks, could be 20, could be half a mile, could be ten miles. Sloppy writing that.

  8. Submitted by Ron Gotzman on 04/11/2013 - 03:01 pm.


    “A lot of what you can get and do in New York, you can pretty much get and do here.”

    Can you buy a “high-end” big gulp to wash down those “high-end” CCCs ?

    • Submitted by Marlys Harris on 05/10/2013 - 11:19 am.

      You can get a big gulp

      Mayor Bloomberg’s over-16-ounce surgaru drink ban was struck down by a court. So you can buy a bathtub-sized Big Gulp if you choose. But, with CCCs, the preferred drink is milk, in my opinion, which you can get here AND there since both Minnesota and New York State are major dairy states/

  9. Submitted by Alex Beaumont on 04/15/2013 - 10:38 am.

    The best thing about New York…

    … is the street life. You touch on it in your “Excitement” portion, but it’s more than that. I love running my errands in the city – taking the train with that crazy mix of people, all types thrown together by the simultaneous joy and pain that is mass transit. Walking the streets every day – your supermarket on one block, the dry cleaner on another, a pet store, a shoe shop – really makes you part of a city. You feel like a true insider when you know to emerge from the subway at just the right exit, on the side of the street you need to be on to go to the wine shop on your way to the dentist. The deep inconvenience of not being able to just drive yourself where-you-want-to-when-you-want-to turns into an insider’s badge of navigating with facility throughout the urban obstacle course. I get SO much pleasure from this. On a good day, you feel like a conquerer – on an average day, you’re at least a scrappy survivor. On a bad day, you drown in the tide, and the Hudson doesn’t even have the decency to wash your bones up on the shore.
    But some real magic happens when everyone has to mash together and just cope. You are forced out of your bubble and into someone else’s personal space. You end up surrounded by people you may never have chosen to carpool with. You learn what’s happening on the sidewalks – who the regular stoop-sitters are, what time the crazy lady comes for her coffee, how many languages are being spoken on the block at the same time, where the cracks in the pavement make it dangerous to wear your stilettos after a couple of drinks. These are things that you just can’t learn when you drive everywhere.
    So for me, a subway map and a good pair of sneakers are all you need to experience the agony and ecstasy of New York City. But I truly believe that any city can spark a bit of the same magic by encouraging people to get out of their cars and onto their streets.

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