Summer in New York 2

Strolling through Central Park

On my last visit I discovered that the bench was still there but that the hotdog man had moved. My special friend, who used to run a worldwide conglomerate, died five years ago.

There was a heat wave last July, with the temperature rising to 95 degrees. But it was cool when we visited the park one afternoon. In fact, at some point a cool breeze wafted through the branches of the trees near the Central Park Wildlife, where the zoo is home to about 100 species.

For the romantically inclined nothing beats the hansom cab ride around the park. The hansom is the horse-drawn carriage that you see in those romantic Hollywood movies. You can get one near the Plaza Hotel on 59th Street at $34 a ride. When you’re in New York you’ll have to forget the exchange rate (P52 to $1 when I was there). Otherwise, shopping will be such a pain.

More than a decade ago Ernie Maceda taught me how to get discounted Broadway tickets by lining up somewhere on 42nd Street. That was when Ernie was in exile in Manhattan and his wife, “Manay” Ichu Maceda, sent a letter and I think some money. He took me to the Hilton for lunch and later to that spot where I could line up for tickets.

I saw practically all the Broadway hits through this process, and I shall forever be grateful to Ernie for it. Imagine getting tickets costing $60 or $45 for half, or even less, the price.

You just had to be patient. It was a long line and you would not know what tickets were available for that evening until you get to the front. It was just tough luck if the available tickets were for shows you had already seen.

For the less adventurous there was telemarketing. You called a number and they found a ticket for you on that same night. It was not as cheap, though. I got a $45 ticket on the same night I called, and the charges added up to $53. It was not even a good seat.

On the first day of July Cesar Montano’s relatives treated us to lunch at Carmine in midtown Manhattan. By then we were on our own as it was the day after the show at Hunter College.

Cesar decided to continue staying at his suite at the Marriott. But I decided to move to the West Park Hotel on 59th Street near Central Park for less than what we were paying at Marriott. I got to know this hotel through the Internet and I did not really know what it looked like, but the area appealed to me.

Hector Magno took me to the West Park Hotel before we joined Cesar and his relatives at Carmine. Hector has been a New Yorker for years, and just like a New Yorker he refused to join us for lunch because he was not previously invited. But he left me all his phone numbers, as well as his daughter’s. To me, that’s very Filipino.

Over lunch we talked about seeing some Broadway shows. Cesar wanted to see that big hit, “The Producers,” but we were told that the available tickets would be for next year yet. Just the same, Cesar bought five tickets for March 2002 at $45 each. One ticket is for me, so I have to go back there in March!

After lunch I decided to call Ticketmaster for a show that evening. I was lucky to get a ticket to Neil Simon’s “The Dinner Party,” which was showing at the Music Box. Starring Jon Lovitz, Larry Miller, Len Cariou, Penny Fuller, Veanne Cox and Carolyn McCormick, “The Dinner Party” is a witty play about relationships and marriage in these modern times. The dialogue is very New York. It was fun to watch.

Speaking of relationships, New York is enjoying its own kind of scandal. Mayor Rudolph Giuliani has been scouting for a place to live because he is no longer comfortable staying at Gracie Mansion, the 200-year-old official residence that he shares with his estranged wife and two children. (The mayor has since moved out.–Ed.)

The trouble started when his wife Donna Hanover filed a case and won, barring Giuliani from taking his girlfriend Judith Nathan to Gracie Mansion. Giuliani’s reason for sleeping elsewhere: Hanover’s exercise equipment, which she uses at all hours, leaves him sleepless up to 5 a.m.

Out-of-towners are curious about the mayor’s living arrangements. Not the Filipinos, who can be as blasé as New Yorkers.