I Miss The City

By Cecil Hoge


I miss the city not because I loved the 3rd Avenue L
Although I remember it well.

I miss the city
Not because I admired
It’s brown caked beams and the railroad tracks above.
Not because I was not scared of the dark strangers that hid in its shadows,
Not because those iron pillars did not throw darkness and cold.
They did.

I miss the city
Not because I was born there, although I was.
Not because I rode a tricycle on its concrete and stone streets,
Not because I bashed a gash in my chin running down a hill,
Although all those things are true.

I miss the city,
Not because I raced Flexible Flyers into cold steel spires,
Although I did.
Not because I banged my head and went home with a lump.
And I would again if I could,
Even if the snow was not as deep as it should, which many times it wasn’t,
On the hill by Gracie Mansion,
It was a short and fast ride to that black iron fence.

I miss the city not because it was my place of birth,
Not because it was the House of Mirth,
Not because time passes,
Not because we fade to gases,
Not because all those things are also True,
Not because there are not things I rue,
Not because I wish I could freeze all its parts together and remix them in some glass bowl of hopes and dreams.

I miss city because I love taxis,
I miss the city because
I loved to walk it’s streets.
I miss city because at night you can hear it’s mechanical hum and clatter.

I miss the city not because
I remember the sound of taxis bumping over pot holes and steel plates, of buses honking, of subways screeching and snorting, of sirens coming and going, of fire hydrants blasting water across streets on hot summer days.

I miss the city because
I remember the sound of horse hooves on cold cobblestones…Clip, Clomp, Clip, Clopp
Not because remember the reflection of rain on black city streets at night under under bright city lights.

I miss the city because I think of those people I adored, those people I met, those people I liked and disliked.
I miss the city when we laughed and roared.
In bars, in restaurants, in clubs, on city streets, in Madison Square Garden.

I miss the city when I think of my uncle standing by his fireplace, drink in one hand, telling me about the marines and the social order of life, how some people deserved to be rich, some people deserved to be poor.
And even though I did not agree with him, I miss him standing there with his proud, arrogant family smile on his red face, his chest out, his back straight.

I miss seeing the Chinese bowl on the large piano along with pictures of their beautiful family in silver frames, three stunning girls, a beautiful wife, a handsome son and my uncle, the proud father.
I still have that Chinese bowl.
It came back to me, after my uncle’s death, the last vestige of my grandfather’s wealth.

He had a shipyard in Brooklyn, the largest the United States before World War I. That was then, this is now.

I miss the city because there I was born,
I miss the city not because I have not walked some of the other cities,
Those of Illinois, those of California, those of the Northwest, those of the South, Those of Europe,
Those of Asia, or of the island where Christopher Columbus landed,
Although I have and then some.

I miss New York City
Not because it has the tallest buildings in the world,
It does not.
Not because the streets are clean and shiny,
They are not.

I miss the city not because I was chased by Irish gangs throwing stones and rocks and sticks and bricks.
I was.

I miss the city not because I saw two street kids bet they could survive running under a moving car and saw them each run in front of a moving car, lay down on the street in front of those cars and saw the cars pass over them and saw them get up and shake hands on their bully bet.
That was then, this is now.

I miss the city not because I saw it snow for three days in row, not because there was 47 inches on the ground,
Not because the wind did howl and sweep and curl its way around buildings and corners, over alleys and through windows and past avenues and parks and over rivers.
Although the snow and wind did all that and more.

I miss the city not because it has Central Park and Bryant Park and Battery Park and Bedford Sty and Brooklyn and Queens and The West Side and Chinatown and Korean Vegetable Stores and Broadway and Ferries and Helicopters and newstands and rich people and whores and bores and dissolute youths and vain people and theater people and artists and singers and poets and jazzmen and hanger-ons and frauds and hipsters and banksters and robbers and barrons and rent controlled apartments and desperate chamber maids and St. Patricks, although all these things are and were and will be in New York City.

I miss the city not because you can walk from one building to another and not be on the street, not because The World Trade Center was a city to itself, not because it got knocked down, not because it got built up, not because it ever was the same, not because it ever will be the same, not because it was ever the same as it was 12 seconds before or ever will be the same 12 seconds after.

I miss the city because it was the place where I came from,
Because it had spaces where I lived, on 92nd street, in Doctor’s Hospital where I was born, in Bellevue where my mother visited, on 1215 Fifth where we lived, on 63rd where lived, on 72nd where we lived,
On Wall Street and Park Avenue where I worked.

Oh yeah, I miss the city,
For what it was, for what it will be, for what I never saw or for what I saw and heard and experienced and what will come that I will never hear or see or experience.

I wish I was there in the old days of New Amsterdam when the local folks traded the isle of Manhattan for some beads, blankets and shells.
Of course anyone who saw something that happened and read about it in the papers may come to realize what we see is subjective and what’s printed or reported about what someone else saw is also subjective.
So I don’t know what happened then or before I came to be born or even when I lived and worked there.
And I don’t know what will happen.

But I do know the city I miss is between the East and Hudson Rivers and the current in those rivers can be fast or slow on the same day and the water comes from or goes into the sea.

I do know the isle of Manhattan had 150 feet of ice over it some 15,000 years ago and that we are in warm patch between ice ages.

And I do know when the warm patch passes and the cold patch comes again the ice will come grind whatever happens to remain of our ziggarets and churches and parks and museums and streets down to sand and rock.

I do know people have lived on the isle of Manhattan for 10,000 years or more before we Europeans came.
And I do know there were a lot of other people living and fishing and loving and gathering and picking shells and eating oysters and hunting deer and making knives and axes and arrowheads and paint pots.

But that’s not why I miss New York City.
I miss the city because it was where I grew up, because it’s where my parents lived and worked, where I lived and worked and played.

I miss the Squadron A Armory on 94th street, where my mother rode horses, where I watched polo games and drank beers with girlfriends of old.
I can smell the stables, the dirt floor of the indoor field.
I remember when there still some tanks and police horses inside the old armory.

It is gone now like the old Penn Station, like the old Astor Hotel, like the old World Trade Center.

I miss wandering Central Park on a Sunday afternoon, the smell of marijuana floating in breeze, the sound of steel drums being banged, the rifts of guitars and harmonicas and banjos, the sound of bells tinkling on a warm and sunny winter day, the girls and guys with long hair, colorful clothes and glazed and laughing eyes.

Now they have $3000 bicycles and are jogging or walking for fitness.

I miss the big parties in tuxes and tails, I miss the dingy clubs in basements and cellars, I miss the discotheques, the jukeboxs, the bocce ball players in that Italian restaurant on 64th.

You know the place,
It might even still be there.

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China November 2010


This is a house built where no house can be built


This last fall I visited China for my 20th or 21st time – I am losing count. China is a different country each time I visit it. When I first went to China 20 years ago I thought I understood it. It seemed to be a new country emerging from a backward past. In my first visits in the early 1990s the country was incredibly backward. All seemed to be in chaos and shambles. Yet, all around, one could see the signs of a new China emerging, bursting forth with new hotels, new buildings, new restaurants.

This picture of Shanghai is already out dated

The above picture was taken 2 years ago in Shanghai – it shows the new emerging China, which today is changing every day, every hour, every minute. And already this picture is outdated. Since this picture Shanghai installed the world’s fastest train, since this picture Shanghai has added numerous new buildings to its endlessly changing skyline. Today, many people think Shanghai is the most dynamic, the fastest changing city in the world. I disagree, I think Shenzhen deserves that title, although I am sure there are others that would suggest other cities and maybe even other countries.

It is hard to translate what China looked like when I first started coming to China. Roads were unpaved, cars drove in whatever direction they desired, paying no attention to traffic lights, pedestrians or oncoming traffic. Along the side of the roads were shanties made of tin and spare lumber with hordes of bicycles and people – some of the people were seated around inside or outside, some were standing, some were playing pool or ping pong, some were drinking beer, some were smoking cigarettes. If it was raining, the people would huddle inside under the limited protection of open shanties. If the weather was good, people would be outside crowding some shanties to the point of no space and leaving others forlorn, empty, dead.

This may give some idea of the old China - bicycles are still used even in the more modern coastal cities such as Weihai

Inspersed between groups of 20 or 30 people were stores and small businesses selling various goods, stamping machines, videos, t-shirts, food, wood for fires, sheets of metal, tampons, tea, cell phones, TVs, clothes, pots and pans. There seemed to be no order to the different enterprises and each seemed to be in different stages of use or disuse…some crowded with people, others cluttered with goods…some new, others ancient.

In the first several years this was the story of the China that I saw. I must say that my view of China is really centered around coastal China and that is the part of China that is the most advanced, the fastest growing, the most modern. It is my understanding that the inland parts of China are far more backward today, perhaps even more backward than the China I first visited in in 1990.

One thing is true for sure – coastal China is changing at an explosive rate. Where there were dirt roads now there are paved highways. Were there were paved highways with thousands of shanties along the higway, now there 3 lane, 4 lane and 5 lane interstate type highways, all brand new, with exotic manicured gardens on all sides of the highway and new exotic bridges stretching miles over open water.

I am fond of saying that China has been gardenized and marblelized in the last 15 years. This impression came to me after multiple visits to China and seeing hotel after hotel install marble throughout their hotels and seeing intricate gardens spring up along highways where once there were tin and wood shanties.
As time went on, the factories of the suppliers I visited also changed. From dirty, chaotic, haphazard factories where injuries and pollution were a real concern, they evolved into new, state of the art mega factories, clean, new, with open areas for the workers to play basketball, an on-the-premises temple, a company garden to plant vegetables and flowers, a rock pool for multi-color Chinese goldfish. Inside these factories the offices also became marblelized and mahoganized, with vast spacious tables and offices far larger than many American companies.

The vast plume of pollution that hangs over all Chinese cities has persisted through the 90s right up into the 10s. The air outside is so thick that you can feel it every time you go out. It hangs heavy in your lungs and upon returning from China I often felt it would take several weeks to expunge the damage caused by my 3 or 4 week visits.

This building is already getting old in downtown Shenzhen

It seem to me that China is a country trying to go from the 19th century to the 23rd century. They are in a big hurry and they are not satisfied with just catching up with the West. No, their goal is to surpass the West and in many ways they already have. Again, I must state that I am speaking of coastal China which has always been the fastest growing and the most dynamic part of China. I will say that more and more I hear that inland China, the land of traditional small family farm communes, is also being transformed at lightning speed, hurtling out the past and into the future.

I mentioned earlier that I thought that I understood China after visiting it a few times, but the more I visited it, the more I realized I did not understand it. I started reading Chinese histories. I now have read 4 so far and I cannot say that I am that much wiser. To this day, I am still trying to figure how the Chinese government works. I am guessing I will never figure that out. The one thing I am sure of is that my initial impression – that China was a backward country becoming an emerging country – was wrong.

Over time, with repeated visits, I have developed a new theory. And that is that China is like a tulip bulb. It has been planted in the ground for some time and now it is just re-emerging into the landscape. Unlike a normal tulip bulb which comes up every 4 years, China, in my theory, is a tulip bulb that comes up every several hundred years. But like a real tulip bulb, it is re-emerging as its real self – a fully developed flower sprung from the ground with its roots carrying the memory of what it always was.

One of my suppliers told me as we drove through downtown Shenzhen that all this was useless farmland 30 years ago. Well, as you can see from the above picture taken at night, Shenzhen is no longer useless farmland. I think of it as the fastest growing, most dynamic city in the world. Where 30 years before there were rice paddies and farmers, now there are 14,000,000 people and a vast expanse of city going in all directions.

Driving on what was once "useless farmland"

Some years ago a French guy I met in Shenzhen said “It is a strange city…there is no center.” 

At the time he was managing a French restaurant recently opened in downtown Shenzhen. It was truly opulent restaurant with large chairs, elegant umbrellas, featuring a wide selection of reasonably good French food and a wide array of French wines and liqueurs. My brother and I would visit it at the end of a long Asian trip and try to recoup after 3 weeks of Chinese food.

Two years ago I passed by this restaurant and had a long enjoyable meal and the same French guy came by my table and took up our conversation as if we had last spoken yesterday.

“You know, I can now say, after living here for 10 years that it is quite an interesting city. Yes, it still has no real center, but the people are quite modern and life is improving and now the city has many centers. It is quite a good place to live. I visit France once or twice a year, but it seems an old place to me. My life is here now and I doubt that I shall ever return to live in France.”

This November I went looking for the French guy and the French restaurant in the giant mall where it was located. It was gone. In my hotel, just a few blocks away, on the 32nd floor, was a new French restaurant, even more opulent and more ‘tres cher” (expensive) than the last. Perhaps, it put the other restaurant out of business. But no doubt the French guy is still in Shenzhen, perhaps managing the new restaurant I found, perhaps opening his own restaurant in another part of town. The city, as he said, has many centers. He could be anywhere.

Shenzhen at night from the 32nd floor

What’s going on in China today. I can tell you it is a moving target. China is evolving, developing, changing, growing, being reborn, being torn down. Highways are being laid down where there were no highways. Trains are being constructed where there were no trains. Mountains are being blown up in order to provide concrete and in order to get rid of mountains – it is easier to build buildings on flat surfaces. Factories are going up everywhere, factories are closing down everywhere.

A classic example of the new China is the 3 Gorges Dam project where China has built a vast dam complex to inundate millions of square miles, displace tens of millions of people and cover over villages, town and cities that have existed for hundreds or thousands of years. The purpose of this project is to generate electricity for the new China, to create less problems from flooding and to bring new prosperity to this part of China.

All of this is being done by decree of the government. There was no ballot for the people too consider if this was a good thing. Some government officials got to together and said this is what we are going to do and you tens of millions of people, you got to move. That was that. One can only hope that this project does provide the electricity it is supposed to, that it does bring new prosperity to China and it does help China’s eternal problems with flooding.

To have some idea of China and the ways they do things, several years ago there were huge floods covering large parts of China – actually, each year there are large floods covering many parts of China, but this particular year the floods were particularly severe. At the time, even the 3 Gorges Dam Project was threatened and there many other dams in danger of collapse.

What was the solution? It was really simple. The Chinese government sent over 1,000,000 soldiers to where the floods were particularly severe and said, you one million guys, you walk across that river and you holds hands and you diivert the course of the river that way. And that’s what those one milliion guys did, they walked into the flood waters, they held hands and they made a human dam that diverted the course river.

I will tell you another story. A few years ago I was in Qingdao staying on the 23rd floor of a hotel. Outside my window, across the street, was a large construction site. There were several giant Caterpiller tractors and trucks, hauling giant quantities of earth and rocks. There was also 50 or 100 guys with jackhammers chipping and blasting away at what seemed like a giant wall of rock while a giant crane hovered over the site lowering a huge basket to pick up rocks.

Between the giant tractors and the giants trucks and the 50 to 100 guys with jackhammers and the huge crane were hundreds of guys, each carrying 2 smaller baskets of rocks on long pole suspended across each guy’s shoulders. These several hundred guys were all walking in a kind of uneven circle…some guys were walking with the baskets empty towards a huge pile rocks that was having more rocks added to it by the huge tractors which were scooping up rocks and motoring them over the huge pile of rocks. Other guys were walking with their baskets full of rocks towards the huge basket being raised and lowered by the crane. And still other guys were picking up rocks and putting them into their two smaller baskets – I would guess each of these baskets weighed close to 100 lbs. when loaded with rocks.

After watching for some time I came to understand what they were doing. The guys with jackhammers and the giant tractors were making and moving the rocks, the guys with the baskets were then carrying baskets of rocks to the huge basket and dumping their small backets into the very large basket. The crane was then picking up the huge basket of rocks once it full, swinging it over to another location and dumping them away from the site. Essentially they were digging a hole in the ground in order to make room for the new foundation of the new new building, perhaps the way worker ants would, with tasks clearly divided.

In the States this would never happen – there might be some guys with jackhammers and there surely would be some giant tractors and giant trucks and a giant crane, but there would not have been the several hundred guys carrying the rocks from a big pile to a big basket. The process, the way it was done, was actually much faster using the Chinese system. I doubt the same technique could be used in the States. For one thing, American workers would not agree to carrying rocks in baskets on their shoulders.

Whatever you think of this process, it reflected on the way things are accomplished in China.

If you look at the picture at the front of this blog, you will see what looks like a very nice house. I had the opportunity to visit this house on the inside and I can confirm that it is just as nice on the inside as it appears to be on the outside. Inside the a wonderful Chinese sculture and Chinese furniture and a collection of wierd beautiful rocks surrounding a very exotic fireplace. The house literally clings to a cliff and the waves of sea break below and are visible through a glass floor. You can walk down a stairway and be on the beach in seconds where the is a secluded beach that muwst be wonderful to swim at. I was told that it was illegal to build this house where it was situated, but somehow, someone was able to have it built. That is another aspect of China – things are illegal unless you happen to know a local party boss, then, if you are polite and accomadating and perhaps spread some of your wealth, you can have your house built. And so it goes in China.

What I Learned From Reading Several Histories of China

As I have mentioned earlier in this blog, I have read several histories of China in an effort to get a better understanding the places I was visiting. I do not by any means consider myself well read on this subject – quite simply, there is too much history to read and I am guessing it would take reading hundreds of Chinese histories to come to some real understanding of that country. And even then, I am not even convinced you would, after reading several hundred Chinese histories, come to a real understanding of the place.

It seems to me, by its very nature, to be a place beyond the understanding of Western minds. Not only do I not have a real understanding of its long culture and history, I do not have a clue how its government works. I have the impression that it allows businesses to operate pretty much any way they wish as long as they do not break the cardinal rule of interfering with the government of the country. And I suspect that Chinese people accept this as long as the Chinese government provides a prosperous and growing economy.

I have met, of course, many Chinese people. I find them to be open, curious and very intelligent. They have strong opinions and they have great pride about China. Bring up the subject of Tiawan and every mainland Chinese person, be they young or old, male or female, will say one simple thing – it is a part of China. When the unfortunate fact that it actually operates separately from China is mentioned, they will say, to a person, that it will soon again be part of China.

Bring up the subject of Tibet and they will all get rather agitated – Tibet is and always has been a part of China, they will tell you. Therefore, the people of Tibet should accept that. Mention the fact that Tibet has, from time to time, operated as a separate country with separate ideals and thoughts and Chinese people will say that the real truth is that Tibet has always been part of China and that any time it happened to be separate was just a simple aberration not reflective of the true state of affairs.

A Graceful Performer

Rudyard Kipling said East is East and West is West and never the twain shall meet. I suppose this is true. Certainly, I do not think another 20 vistis to China will suddenly elighten me and let me understand really what the country and its civilization is.

If I could come to any conclusion or any judgment about China, I would like to again suggest my Tulip bulb theory. I believe China is re-emerging from its past greatness into its future greatness. This does not necessarily mean that it will end well – China is just learning to deal with its new and its old greatness. There could and probably will be some misteps along the way.

The history of China is generally a series of cycles. A dynasty emerges and in its youth and vigor all goes well. Then the inevitable takes place. The dynasty becomes lazy, immobile and corrupt. And then it falls and is replaced by a new dynasty which in turn goes through the cycle of growth and decay only to be replaced by yet another dynasty.

There are those that believe that China is run by the Communist Party. There are others who think people in the Communist Party are adapting Confucian principles of government and that they are really just the latest dynasty. Whatever is the case may truly be, I am grateful that I had the opportunity to visit this enigma of a country.

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Winter Paddling In a FastTrack

This is a tree I pass on my way from Little Bay to Setauket Bay

By Cecil C. Hoge, Jr.

I designed the Sea Eagle FastTrack and I think it is the easiest to paddle, easiest to transport, most responsive, most stable, safest inflatable kayak in the world.

But rather than tell you how good it is, perhaps I should tell about how I use it.

I live on the water and I paddle at least 10 months a year. In the winter, my tidal bay tends to ice over for one month or so and if the ice is thicker than a 1/4″, I forego paddling. Simply put, I don’t want to be a ice-breaker.

Aside from the relatively short period when the bay is frozen solid, I go paddling everyday I can and that includes paddling on every winter’s day when the tide is in, when the ice is minimal and when the weather is passable – yes, I do not like to paddle in driving snowstorms or in winds over 25 mph.

People often look at me like I am crazy when I tell them that I paddle in the winter because it is cold. Yes, it is, but I point out that most people dress warmly and go outside during the winter so it is not that impractical to paddle outside. You just have to dress warmly. I value a warm jacket, warm gloves, warm shoes and various layers, but I find that on most days, no matter how cold it is, I am comfortable. This should be understandable from the fact that paddling is a form of exercise and just the act of paddling keeps you warm.

You might ask doesn’t paddling get boring? Yes, it could if you are bored by endlessly changing scenery. The fact is that when you paddle the same conditions are never repeated even if you paddle along the same general course. This is because the tide is always different, going or coming at one level or another, the weather is always different and what you see along a paddle is always different.

One of the pleasures of paddling in winter are the many different birds you might see along the way.

In the picture above, I am guessing one duck is a Mallard male and the other is his wife. You may have to look carefully to recognize the wife – she is very modest.

The pictures taken for this blog were all taken on January 3, 2011. I did not go out of my way in taking these pictures. In winter my little bay, cleverly called Little Bay, is often filled with swans. Swans pay kayakers little mind (I probably should say kayaker since I am the only one they ever see).  This makes them very easy to photograph. I pass literally hundreds of birds every day I paddle. Here are some more.

This heron is about to fly the coop. When he does, he will emit an otherworldy squawk to indicate his disapporval of me.

Herons do not like humans. I think they remember when they were giant flying dinosaurs and humans were little snacks to be picked off on a slow day of hunting.

I have a theory about winter paddling and that is that it is very healthy. I think breathing the air when paddling on salt water clears out your lungs and helps ward off colds. It’s just a theory – I cannot promise that it will work for everyone, but it seems to work for me.

If you ask a serious kayaker why they like to paddle they may not be sure just what to answer. Yes, they like the exercise…yes, they like seeing different kinds of birds…yes, they like the fact that something is always different. The sun, the clouds, the tide, the wind, the weather, the time of season, the time of day…every time you go paddling the surrounding elements are different and in flux – this is both soothing and exhilirating.

But I think it is not just the changing scenery that makes paddling interesting, exhilirating and plain fun. There is another word I would like to suggest. It is the horizon that is visible when you are paddling – the sheer open spaces that come into view without the obstructions that are so normal to everyday views. Think of it, when you go out of your front door, there a lot of things immeidately in view…a car, a driveway, a hedge, a road, a telephone pole. But when you are paddling, often you come to places where your view is not obstructed by objects. Literally, the horizon in front of you expands and seems limitless.

This may not seem exciting as a description, but I think if feeds an inner calm that most of us seek and long for. Even when you go for a jog, there is not much of a horizon visible. Usually, you are on a road with no great expanse of horizon in view…with houses and telephone poles and mail boxes. This is the great difference with paddling for there is a true horizon and it seems limitless. There is no path, there is no road, there is no set course, you may paddle where you will and along the way you come across unobstructed views. Of course, many will say it is a stupid and crazy idea to paddle in winter when your fingers might get chilled, but I will tell you oh no, your fingers will be as warm toast if your paddling in winter, because your hands are moving and exercising all the time so cold is simply not a factor.

Add to the warmth factor the fact in winter that you generally are out there by yourself – in my case I only see an occasional clamdigger. There are no mighty Mastercrafts charging back and forth with skiers in tow, there are no large yachts or small boats crusing back and forth, the waterways are no longer crowded, they are left empty, pristine, remote and all to yourself. Winter is in fact a nice time to paddle.

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