PM rush hour. Water main break Upper West Side at 106th St. Streets buckled, buildings flooded, subways shut down. UN in session on Upper East Side. Traffic snarled. How to get from midtown to Inwood?

There a usually a lot of routes to get to any given spot in the city. And we calculate the best way each time, and probably nine out of ten times we succeed. All those options, all those factors to consider, and most of the time we choose correctly and never think twice. We’re certainly not patting ourselves on the back for picking the express over the local.

But that one time we screw it up, our heads explode. This time, I was not as upset because it seemed that all the possible avenues were blocked for me. But if I screw it up because of my own ignorance (That parade is today?) I’m gonna stew in it.

[Photo by Metro]

Take a New York Minute out to look at this great photo gallery of the disappearing face of our city. From Retronaut, where else? Oh, and dig the book, by James and Karla Murray.

We’ve talked about eating on the subway. But shouldn’t hot coffee be a much bigger hazard? I’ve seen all sorts of coffee containers on the subway over the years, and I’ve never seen one spill. Do New Yorkers have mad balancing skills? Advances in coffee cup technology?

What’s your theory? Or have you seen a coffee disaster?

Some mornings, waking up is a chore. Maybe you stayed up to watch a late game or your kid had trouble sleeping. Perhaps one kid had trouble sleeping, and then you went into help him, and the other kid noticed, and all three of you ended up crammed into a skinny little toddler bed. Could be that all these things happened on the same night.

When morning comes, every minute is precious. Start by eliminating the shave. The coffee. The tie. The breakfast. Shudder, the shower?

What do you eliminate when you need to save a couple of New York Minutes in the morning?

The wife and I went to Pittsburgh last weekend. Went to PNC, gained 46 lbs each and had a great time. The wife said, “It’s a nice little city,” which is what a New Yorker says whenever they visit a town that is not Mexico City or London or Rome.

Then to come back and see something like this?

Well, it’s good to be home.

[Photo Credi: Ribonyc]

Sitting in the safety of my living room, reading about bomb plots, I sometimes wonder about the security of my commute. But then the time comes to get going in the morning and my head is clear of any notion that something might happen. When I arrive at my desk, I remember I was supposed to be worried and I feel irresponsible.

I’m not trying to ignore the threat, but at the most crucial times, it’s the furthest thing from my mind. I can see how that unconscious selectivity helps me function as a human being, but I wish it was a manual shut-off valve instead of an automatic.

How do you guys deal?

Fresh nail polish packs a wallop. At the end of the line, there’s always breakfast-eating and make-up-application on the train. And in the nice weather, there’s polish for fingers and toes.

It’s a collision of personal moments and public space that bothers some. The stinging scent of alcohol acetone in the nail polish isn’t the most pleasant eye-opener, but honestly, it’s better than a lot of subway cars. And on some mornings, every second counts.

I’ll probably take a harder line when a train lurches and a bottle spills on my leg. Until, then, I’d rather see paint than pancakes.

Seen. Older brother reading to his younger brother on the train.

Life is good.

You know if Dude really wanted to be bold he’d just walk around with his schmeckel hanging out.

The train was packed this morning. The space is filled, summer is over. Folks have returned from vacation, kids going back to school. It is gray and raining but the faces I saw are still tanned. There are new clothes, bright and crisp.  My only complaint is that some of the perfume and hair product that came in my vicinity was enough to knock a buzzard off a shitwagon.

Otherwise, welcome back, World.

Rest in Peace:

Kase 2.

The King of What? King of Style.

Tribute to Kase 2 by Dame

Walking down the street today I saw a big woman having an intense conversation. She didn’t look pleased.  But we made eye contact as I passed by and without thinking, I smiled. I was by her when she cut off what she was saying.

“Hi, Love,” she said to me.

“Morning,” I said.

Who says New Yorkers aren’t friendly?

[Photo Credit: Joel Zimmer]

Son, I’m sayin’…

[Photo Credit: Pam Hule]

I’ll meet you at the Bat.

…under the Big Board.

…next to Alice.

…under the Button and Needle.

…sitting near the Fountain.

…at Love.

“At the Bat” and “Under the Big Board” (at Penn Station) have backfired repeatedly, yet I still use them all the time.

Where do people meet you?

This is the first thing I saw when I walked out of the subway onto the street today.

Goooooood mornin’. Toon Town, NYC Style.

The subway trains ran this morning, but for whatever reason, there weren’t too many people underground. Originally the Mayor said we shouldn’t expect public transportation to be operational today. Maybe some people just left it at that. Maybe they had aftermath to quell.

There are days like this, usually around the holidays, when the crowd on the train shrinks past the usual density into something comfortable and quiet. It sets up a gentler day, and that’s certainly welcome after the big storm.

Photo by Kitty

In light of the news that Derek Jeter and Minka Kelly have split up, please see Jon’s New York Minute post from yesterday. Leave a comment while you are there if you are so inclined.

I love legitimate theater.

Would a ticket to a night of one-acts inspired by Derek Jeter constitute the greatest gag gift ever given to a Red Sox fan?

I see a tough girl from the Bronx with a huge crush on Jeter. Her lumpy boyfriend, who is sweet but dim, takes her to a game for her birthday. Bleachers of course. He proposes at the game, fans jeer. And her answer is…?

Or a couple of low-lifes drink beer in a dark apartment working up the courage to go out and rob a convenience store. The ballgame is on in the background as they alternate between bickering and goading. The game turns dramatic, Derek Jeter sends it to extra innings with a clutch hit. Do the guys still commit the crime?

What do you see?

I saw the King this morning. He was slinking after a squirrel. Then he saw me, came over, meowed, and let me pet him. Then he walked off and took a bath.

It’s good to be the King.

Just felt a minor tremor here in midtown. Everyone on the floor is buzzing about it.

[Photo Credit: Set Babies on Fire]