Down, But Not Out in the Big Apple...



"A desk is a dangerous place from which to view the world," John Le Carre

Down, But Not Out in the Big Apple, but I'm looking for a brighter day. I'm at a Better Burger downing a muffin with organic eggs and turkey bacon in the Murray Hill section of Manhattan. I'm thinking that the organic prepared food sector is a topic that I need to work since so many urbane African Americans seem to bubble-up and lead this trend. 

The Doggie Do & Pussy Cats Too is next door with a stream of pets and owners coming and going in a stream taxis, sedans, and limos for their canine spa treatments. The pet sector is another I should investigate, but I'm not feeling it. 

A misty rain is descending on my second day in the Big Apple. And truth be told, the previous day had it's casualties. In addition to the all day downpour, I lost 2 of 4 scheduled appointments due to traffic and weather, a $200 mobile phone, and a borrowed umbrella I have yet to explain, and Al (my Allen Edmonds) and I were thoroughly drenched by day's end. 

I jump in a cab that's exited by a lady and her pooch that she summarily retrieves from her large Louis Vuitton purse and head uptown to see one my marketing guru colleagues in self-imposed exile. On the ride up I couldn't help but ponder that one of Rudy Gulliani's greatest achievements may have been overhauling New York's taxi system and giving a Brother a better shot at catching a cab -- even it was just inhabited by a pooch. As I was riding in the cab uptown to 67th, it occurs to me that I don't see any other Brothers in Manhattan. Brothers being African American males. None - not among the delivery drivers, Con Edison guys, suits on 3rd Avenue, construction crews, or seemingly wait staff in the restaurants. I can't figure those odds, even though I made straight A's in statistics. 

But to the untrained eye and ear there are men that look like Brothers on the streets of Manhattan, but for those in the know they are most likely from the Caribbean and maybe Africa -- even if the have on Jordan's. Moreover, when I visited my favorite bar & restaurant the previous night on Murray Hill , the bartender was Russian. It's also a trend that I have noticed in Manhattan restaurants, bistros and bars. It appears that many of the workers are from Russia or Eastern Europe. Upon further inquiry, the bartender, informed me that there was a relaxation in immigration as a result of the end of the Cold War in the 1990's Reagan Era that permitted many residents from communist block countries to immigrate to the U.S. 

Thanks to the U.S. Navy I probably know more about Russian geography, infrastructure, airplanes, ships, and weapons systems than most Russians, and now the Russians are serving me beer. The Russians aren't coming - they're here. How bout that! No Brothers, plenty of Russians, West Indians and Africans. I can remember what my mother used to say about things like that, "Son, life's funny that way". 

Caribbean immigration to New York City is outlined in the Urban Signs section of our eNewsletter.