I always believe in "doing unto others as you want them to do unto you". I also believe in doing random acts of kindness. Karmically, it comes back to you.
In my previous blog entry, I described a sublime dinner that Lewis and I shared with three new friends. Please click this link to see it:
Here's how we made their acquaintance. My friend in Chicago had a buddy visiting NYC. He told him to "look me up" because I know lots of current, good sightseeing/dining suggestions. The man contacted me. He refers to himself by his middle name, Henry Lee ____ (name omitted for privacy) III. Yes, he's Henry III, but prefers being called Lee.
Lee hosted two other Chicago friends for their first visit to Manhattan. He arranged a tour bus trip for them, which ended at 3:30pm, and he wondered if I knew things to do/see until dinnertime (which he also wondered if Lewis and I could join him for, to get acquainted). I knew that I could do better than that, so I volunteered to walk them around the city! Knowing to avoid "tourist traps", I discovered their "likes" and customized a walking tour based on that. People say that I'm a great tour-guide... even when I don't live in the areas that I am knowledgeable about. I also suggested making dinner reservations at a Michelin-starred restaurant named The Modern for dinner.
Lee told me to proceed, and he loved our meal. It's was a swanky farm-to-table gastronomic experience that Lewis and I use to impress out-of-towners. The restaurant's reservationist recognized me and accommodated our group on short-notice. I informed Lee of the good news, and he was ecstatic!
*Refusing industrialized chain-restaurants like this...
...I will always take you to a local place (with locally-sourced ingredients, local flair, and real chefs) that offers "heart".
Their unorganized bus tour was sluggishly late, delaying the conclusion of their tour by 2 hours! By the time they disembarked from the overheated (poor air conditioning) bus (which didn't have enough bottled water!), they looked miserable. (That is typical of NYC tourism: scam money from people via false promises/advertising and lackluster results). I had a task before me: cheer them up, get them interested in walking through the streets, and showing them a magnificent time.
Miraculously, the weather provided a cool/breezy day. A sidewalk vendor sold cold bottles of water for $1 each. That cooled Lee and his friends.
I steered them away from Times Square--which should be avoided. Click here to see why:
Instead, I corralled them betwixt "rush-hour" commuters to a (thankfully) clean subway. I chatted about the city, its history, development, and famous residents/industries. I added details to things that they saw on their tour. We surfaced from the hot subway tunnels at West 4th Street, and I led them down cozy Cornelia Street, to Bleecker Street.
Lee's two friends, Jenn and Brendan LOVED it! They kept saying, "THIS is my kind of neighborhood." "I'm liking this vibe more and more." At Dave's Tea, (below) Jenn bought a half-dozen canisters of organic loose teas. Across the street, Brendan bought vintage comic books.
We were thrilled about the possibilities inside Murray's Cheese Shop! The cheesemongers were conveniently offering beer/cheese tastings. How cool!
Jenn remarked how one woman she met had been so rude, "typical of NYC where everyone is in a hurry". Apologizing on behalf of my fellow denizens, I suspected that the woman was probably a "bridge & tunnel" commuter, rushing for a dismal train. I assured her that most locals are more polite.
Lo and behold, we suddenly overheard a woman (seen below) spontaneously start chatting with Lee about Murray's olive bar. She actually apologized that they didn't have a full selection--as if she wanted to show off her local cheese shop to an obvious visitor.
Suddenly, a salesgirl appeared, offering to assist Jenn. Jenn inquired about a Greek "burnt" cheese, and the girl spent the next few minutes asking each coworker before replying in the negative. Nonetheless, Jenn was impressed by both of those "overly pleasant" interactions! Before we left, the salesgirl rushed over to say that her team researched online and found a place that sold the cheese that Jenn wanted. See? A few nice New Yorkers! (Well, actually, that salesgirl was a transplant from Ohio. But that's oftentimes how you encounter a polite person in New York).
Of course, they reveled in the concept/scenery of the High Line park. Jenn savored the foot-tickling wading fountain.
Accumulating shopping bags as they went, I guided them uptown to our dinner. At the end of our night, they headed to the 24-hour parking garage (that I found for Lee online). They were enthralled with how much we experienced in only several hours! Kisses and hugs Goodbye, Lewis and I headed home, and Lee drove his guests to his "country house" in Westchester County.
The next morning, Lewis left my apartment to go to work. My cellphone rang. Lee thanked me again profusely for my tireless efforts and for making sure that he and his friends enjoyed such a good time. He knew that my current job was dwindling, and he knew about my stressful "job hunting" (read about that here:
and here:
He spontaneously invited me to "get away and refresh" at his countryside home. It is named Wixon House. His generosity was so sweet that I spontaneously accepted.
Via texts, Lewis urged me to go: the relaxation would be good for me. Immediately checking the MetroNorth train schedule, I realized that I only had an hour to pack and catch the train! I raced to my local subway station, emitted thanks that a train arrived (on time and without delays ahead). Then, I raced into Grand Central Terminal.
Bypassing the historic Information Booth...
I knew where to buy my tickets and had already looked online to find my departing track number. Avoiding the slow-moving lines at the ticket counter (seen below), I used a ticket vending machine.
With 10 minutes left, I followed the signs to my train's departure track!
Typical of NYC (and different from other first-world cities), the veneer of glamor hides an underbelly of decay. Once you pass through the pretty doorways, the actual areas where the trains are remain filthy, bare-bones, and outdated.
Despite guzzling revenue for centuries, New York railroads never clean their trains! They rely on the rain to rinse them.
After an hour, my train chugged into Westchester County, which was established in 1683 and named after England's city of Chester. Its flag features historic Dutch colors to honor its first settlers.
I disembarked at Croton Falls Station. It is south of the Croton Falls Reservoir, where NYC gets its drinking water via the Croton Aqueduct, which was built in the 1850s by German and Irish immigrants.
Lee waited for me in his 4x4 SUV: a vehicle that was needed to ascend his steep driveway in wintertime. Driving out of the parking lot, we zoomed past rural-sounding roads, with names like Watermelon Hill Road, Strawberry Fields Lane, Peepers Hollow Lane, and Mud Pond Road. The scenery was quaint and rustic.
It was so rustic that I expected Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane to appear in his iconic vehicle while patrolling the countryside! Ha ha!
Seen below, Wixon House is nestled in the woods near a Nature Preserve, which prevents overdevelopment in the area. It's not far from civilization, but it is secluded to impart serenity. A pretty lake is within walking distance, and it's common to spot white-tail deer, chipmunks, bluejays, frogs, newts, red foxes, and New England Cottontail rabbits.
Lee parked in his three-car garage and showed me around his "humble abode". It was quite spiffy... and spacious.
The above fireplace is wood-burning, and the piano plays itself.
Below, his library has a beamed ceiling, pocket doors to the living room, a doorway to his trendy sitting room, and views of where deer cross his lawn.
Lee's home has 2 dining rooms and 2 living rooms. Seen below is the casual living room: vibrant pastel colors, suede chairs, a wet bar, gas fireplace, and French doors to the deck.
Lee loves using that silver punchbowl, and has entertained 40 people for a sit-down dinner. He certainly has the kitchen for it, too! It's twice the size of a typical one.
Upstairs are 5 bedrooms; each has a different style bed.
The surprise was that Lee gave me his Master Bedroom suite!
He reasoned that it gave me a chance to appreciate where Lewis and I would spend nights, whenever we visited him in the future! The bedroom has its own secluded sitting area.
His & His closets both adjoin the huge bathroom, which is equipped with a whirlpool tub.
Before we drove off for our first adventure, Lee gestured for me to sign his Guestbook. As a sentimental gentleman, he accumulates lovely mementos in it. Whenever I add my autograph to a Guestbook, I write a rhyme: "Great food and lively guests. A lovely time: no regrets!" Feel free to use it, too.
Then, he took us to the picturesque waterside community of Westport, Connecticut: 30 miles / 45 minutes away. It was settled by colonists in 1693, and the men had ponytails, wore wigs, and wore "buckle shoes" with mid-high heels (like Queen Elizabeth). This is the town's flag, showing a man from 1835.
It is the state's third-richest community, and the 19th-richest in America.
Lee had one errand to do there. His administrative assistant was pregnant, and he wanted to buy her a Baby Gift. Using his elite rationale, he went to Tiffany's and bought a sterling baby spoon.
After browsing several other stores, we chose the quaint restaurant, seen below, for lunch.
Lee is also an Anglophile, and I learned that Connecticut is full of towns that are named for places in England: Andover, Avon, Bristol, Canterbury, Derby, Cornwall, Coventry, Essex, Kent, Manchester, Marlborough, New London, Oxford, Plymouth, Windsor, and Waterford.
Westport is famous for its Playhouse, which produces sophisticated and well-funded performances with red-carpet openings.
Wealth abounds, as does conspicuous consumption.
Lee drove me to Compo Beach, a beautiful strip of sand near the town's rowing team boathouse and yacht club.
While the beach gets crowded for community events, it usually looks like this...
The cutest attribute was that houses sit along the beach, separated by a 2-lane street. All the homes are handsome, and we saw homeowners preparing outdoor meals, walking through their hedges to the beach, and waving to cyclists. Lewis and I would love to live near the water and be able to safely use our bicycles!
Jenn and Brendan enjoyed their hours at the beach. Being gay, Lee and I admired the male joggers and volleyball players! Then, he drove us through the residential part of town, with turn-of-the-century columned mansions and grand houses.
Naturally, everyone has splendid gardens... in addition to country club memberships. It's as if they want to impress their neighboring resident, Martha Stewart. LOL!
Our drive through Ridgefield was scenic.
Staying off the highways, we skimmed through woodsy roads. Lee asked us which way we preferred to explore... then used his GPS to get us back to the main road. We savored many picturesque views by just letting the road take us to different places. Behind each turn was a pretty vista.
Lee controls his home's air conditioning and lighting via his cellphone--checking/adjusting things in different rooms to prepare for our arrival.
Lee offered us the opportunity to order delivered food from Four Brothers Pizzeria (regally located on Kings Row), or to cook our own dinner. Naturally, we voted to create our own dinner. Lee's mobile devices located a Whole Foods supermarket, and we bought ingredients. Then, we got various wines and vodka. A woman in the supermarket overheard our dismay that the store was sold-out of basil. She immediately opened her box of basil and insisted giving us some! SO NICE!
Back at Wixon House, we entered through garage. It connects to a vestibule with a rear staircase to where a live-in servant could have a 3-room apartment. In addition to two commodes, the hall has a pantry and a handsome coat rack. It leads to the kitchen.
Just like our dinner at The Modern, the first step of dinnertime was shaking up some martinis. Lee presented cheeses and fruit.
We dined in his "casual dining room". The upholstery has a distinctive 1980's flair that Lee considers as timeless as Art Deco.
Expressing gratitude, Lee says Grace before every meal.
After salad, we enjoyed roast chicken--with our own homemade gravy--warm bread with softened butter, and veggies. For dessert, we had warm apple pie! I love that.
It was 10pm, and we moved to the library for more wine. "Red or White?" Lee asked, "but I'm going to open both of them!" We stayed up late, chatting, admiring his artifacts, and listening to great music on his AMAZING stereo. (The piano sullenly awaited to play another time).
I took the initiative to program Lee's coffeemaker for the next morning. He suggested Jamaican Blue Mountain beans, harvested on that famous Caribbean island. On a tangent, he told me how Jamaica's monarchy is the same as the United Kingdom's, but it uses different royal symbolism, and the Queen has several purely authoritative Royal Prerogatives there. That is unique amongst the Commonwealth of Nations. When people earn citizenship in Jamaica, they swear an oath of allegiance to the Queen.
Soon, Lee's calming voice lulled me to bedtime.
*To see when Lewis and I received permission to visit the Queen's home (and sip tea on her terrace), please use this link:
Brendan and I woke first, and we rendezvoused in the formal living room, admiring the jumpy chipmunks on the lawn. Soon, the household got together to make creamy omelettes with chives, Bloody Marys, turkey sausages on the griddle, OJ, and fruit salad. Lee's technique of brushing soft butter onto our toast was clever. We used a different set of dishes for each meal, because he has so many.
His two guests intended to take the train back to Manhattan for another day of exploring. Lee might've been disappointed but he appreciated their enthusiasm to see the city. He offered me a chance to see the Vanderbilt Mansion in Hyde Park, near where President Franklin Delano Roosevelt grew up. It is nestled in the Hudson River Valley. I was eager to explore.
Thus, we drove north from his "private road" into the valley. We passed through the City of Poughkeepsie and arrived in the Town of Hyde Park. It is situated in Duchess County.
(Commemorating its Dutch origins, it's flag has historic Dutch colors. But the county was named for England's Duchess of York, who was born in the Italy's Duchy of Modena and married the Duke of York to become the Queen of England in 1685).
*To read about the time that Lewis and I saw the Hyde Park in the capital of the United Kingdom, please click this link:
Visitors approach the mansion through elaborate gates.
Passing the Italian Gardens, we arrived at the towering, 54-room, 6-level house.
We crossed Crum Elbow Creek on a stately bridge. The creek's name didn't fit with the lofty estate. Ha ha!
Designed by America's renowned architects, McKim, Mead & White, the mansion has neoclassical Beaux-Arts style.
Here's "the scoop" on this house. From his steamships & railroads, "Commodore" Cornelius Vanderbilt created the family fortune of $100 million (worth $143 billion today). He was infamous as a robber-baron who was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of workers and train passengers, the suppression of better technology, the corruption of government (city, state, and federal levels) to thwart a fair marketplace, and the bankruptcy of dozens of companies.
Upon his death in 1877, the cutthroat tycoon gave 95% of his fortune his son, William Kissam Vanderbilt. There was no income or inheritance tax! Of his 13 children, he felt that William was the only one capable of growing "the empire". William was another robber-baron who financially "raped" America to double the fortune in 8 years. He was famously quoted to say, "Let the public be damned!"
On my journey to Wixon House, I passed through the train station that the Vanderbilts begrudgingly built (to outdo Penn Station that was built by the Pennsylvania Railroad that Carnegie supported). Grand Central Terminal was only built to prevent a loss of revenue to Penn Station. Until the existence of Pennsylvania Station, the Vanderbilts kept the original Grand Central Station as a decrepit, overcrowded, and unsafe blight in Manhattan. They had plenty of money to renovate it, but they refused. In 1902, its inadequate infrastructure killed 15 passengers and injured 30 during a train collision. Still, the uncaring Vanderbilts did nothing (and, as usual, NYC didn't create any consequences).
But, when McKim, Mead & White designed Penn Station in 1910, the Vanderbilts moved to rebuilt their horrid station in 1913. It is seen below, but most people don't know its terrible history. Perhaps as revenge, Penn Station was destroyed in 1963, and America lost another priceless gem of architecture].
To "kick in the door" of NYC High Society (and get noticed), his wife challenged New York City's social kingpin: Caroline Schermerhorn Astor. Of Dutch descent, she belonged to two of America's wealthiest "old money" families that owned most of the land in Manhattan. She was a self-appointed "gatekeeper" to NYC's elite society. That society was named "The 400 of New York" because it included the 400 prominent people who could fit in her mansion's ballroom on Fifth Avenue.
Despite being "new money", the crass Vanderbilts wanted to get into that society. William's pugnacious wife (from Alabama), Alva Smith, initiated a crusade. She erected the biggest Manhattan mansion--a whole city block on Fifth Avenue--whose gilded ballroom held 1,200 people. In 1883, she hosted the grandest housewarming party in NYC's history. Her liveried footmen delivered invitations everywhere except to the Astor's home. Friends of Mrs. Astor's daughters got invitations and gossiped about why the Astors did not. To avoid a scandal, Mrs. Astor was pressured to ride in her carriage to Alva Vanderbilt's home and socialize. Doing that officially recognized the Vanderbilts as worthy of Mrs. Astor's attention. (It was similar to Marie Antoinette being coaxed to say something to the king's mistress to acknowledge her). As a result, Astor's daughter got a sought-after invitation to the ball.
Meanwhile, William's tactics in the financial/business world were caustic. When he died, William defied tradition and split his fortune amongst his 8 children. Those heirs built 43 mammoth mansions of the Gilded Age! (Mark Twain invented the phrase "Gilded Age" because that era was "all show and no substance").
Yet, the Vanderbilts' reckless behavior is strange. It seems peculiar that within one generation, a lineage that fought to be wealthy suddenly spent all their money. People usually only do that when they're forced to. Maybe the Vanderbilts encountered a stronger billionaire who let them live lavishly on the proviso that they financially weaken their family. It reminds me of how Andrew Carnegie (of the same era) suddenly gave away his fortune, after selling his industries to become the richest man. He spent his life vying to be the richest man, but as soon as he brokered a deal to achieve that, he suddenly stopped his efforts... and merely gave it away (like a man who is being blackmailed). During that same time, a copper magnate named William A. Clark outfoxed financiers with less-dastardly methods, built the biggest mansion in NYC, and was a good employer. After his death, his heirs suddenly became reclusive, allowed his mansion to be immediately destroyed, and never used their money for anything serious. It's all very odd.
Only one child of the eight Vanderbilt heirs grew his personal fortune; the others spent theirs on ostentatious homes, extravagant balls, excess, cars, yachts, horse racing, and self-indulgence. He was Frederick William Vanderbilt, the most modest and introverted. He was chosen to be director of the family's railroad empire for 61 years.
In Vanderbilt custom, that shy man maintained homes in Paris, Manhattan, Newport, Bar Harbor, the Adirondacks, and Hyde Park. In addition to private "palace cars" on his family-owned railways, he had three globe-crossing yachts. He also owned a property named 10 East 40th Street: an Art Deco skyscraper built in 1929 as the world's 4th-tallest.
His Hyde Park mansion was his Spring/Autumn home. In 1840, the property belonged to John Jacob Astor and was a gift to his daughter Dorothea. In 1895, the Vanderbilts bought it from Dorothea's heirs and built the mansion. It was another kick at the Astor family.
Unable to have children, Frederick William's socialite wife kept their homes aflutter with social affairs. After her death, he withdrew from society an behaved as a reclusive hermit for his last 12 years. In 1938, after a final walk around his Hyde Park property, he died peacefully in his baronial bed. He refused to leave any money to his squandering relatives, and that helped "close the door" on the Vanderbilt name.
He outlived the Gilded Age. As many of its iconic monuments were destroyed, he continued in opulence. He died before air travel eroded railroad business. He bequeathed a 16-room house, its land, and $250,000 to his servant of 40 years. Despite having his own power-plant, Vanderbilt kept using a local ice supplier (for refrigeration) so they wouldn't go out of business. After donations to charities, most of his estate was bequeathed to his wife's niece. Unable to sell the expensive Hyde Park house, she concocted a deal with Vanderbilt's longtime neighbor, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. The U.S. government bought it for $1.00 and made it a National Historic Site (museum) to honor the Gilded Age. It's the only Vanderbilt home operated by the National Park Service. That is why tours are provided by federal Rangers.
Appropriately, our tour began in the Entrance Hall (foyer). It has an oval shape.
Guests were entertained in the Drawing Room. Such rooms got their names because they "draw" people together.
After changing outfits--with help from their servants--guests moved to the Dining Room (seen below). The Vanderbilts imported the dining room's ceiling from a French chateau. (Fashionable in that era, America's wealthy clans pillaged European mansions). Both fireplaces originally belonged to the famously-rich medieval Medici family who ruled Tuscany, and their papal symbol is engraved in the marble. Nouveau riche families like Vanderbilt showed how they usurped the status of "old money" and former royalty. Yet, they ignorantly befell the same overextension and bankruptcy... by the same causes. History repeats itself, if you don't learn/adapt.
In the Victorian & Edwardian eras (named for English monarchs), society "separated the sexes". Men proceeded to their own room for after-dinner drinks and gossip.
Ladies did the same.
In that era, another opportunity for social-networking was while exploring the tiered gardens and vine-covered gazebos.
The ranger ushered us upwards. We climbed curvy stairs to see guestrooms on the second and third floors. The antiquated elevator doesn't work, and the U.S. government hasn't fixed it in 50 years.
The detailed plasterwork above the grand staircase is great!
The second floor encircles a balcony, which overlooks the reception hall and is lit by the skylight.
Considering themselves like royalty, the Vanderbilts' separate bedrooms have bed railings like French monarchs.
Louise Vanderbilt had a sitting room adjoining her boudoir, for socializing and managing the household/mansion.
Frederick William's bedroom adjoins his wife's and has immense woodcarving, with crowns embedded in the ceiling and on the velvet tapestry above his pillows. (Evidently, he thought of himself as royalty). He was a fan of tapestries, which covered every segment of the walls!
60 servants maintained the estate, 12 maids and cooks lived on the top floor, a chef and butler lived in the cellar, and the (bachelor) footmen lived in a separate building.
Our tour ended in the mansion's kitchen.
Then, the ranger disappeared, and we ventured outside to admire the landscaping.
The Vanderbilt estate is maintained because of FDR, whose family home is 2 miles away (seen below). We'll visit that in the future.
Years ago, Lee toured both places, yet he was thrilled with how enriching I found the experience. He admitted that it was nice to revisit places.
A short distance away is the Culinary Institute of America (CIA). The school has a few restaurants, where trainees cook/serve for customers. The idea of enjoying the creations of students who are taught by culinary masters is enticing! The part of the school that teaches French methods has a restaurant named for Chef Paul Bocuse. Lee, Lewis, and I will eat there in the future.
*To see when we did, please use this link:
As Lee drove us through the campus, we admired the comical crosswalk signs!
That's me, above. Below is the building on campus for Italian cooking.
The CIA's restaurants were all full with prior reservations, so Lee took me to a lovely Italian restaurant, Arturo's. The portion size of his Veal Milanese was amazing!
Years ago, I was fortunate to visit Italy's Lombardy region, and I learned that Milan's proximity to Germanic nations is why Veal Milanese is akin to Veal Schnitzel.
*If you want to see the next time that Lewis and I visited Lombardy's glorious sites, please click this link:
My Chicken Cacciatore (Hunter's Chicken) was succulent!
As an afternoon "pick me up", we headed home and brewed strong coffee. Lee made me chocolate cups of fruit parfait.
Realizing that the vodka was running low, Lee spiritedly suggested driving to the nearby store to buy more! Great idea! We got Limoncello, too: a perfect summery Italian liqueur.
Lee didn't think that his television was big enough, so he set up his portable film projector to watch movies on the wall. With the fireplace on and candles glimmering all over, we also admired great jazz music and told each other about our own Life Stories. He thought that mine could be made into a mini-series! (You can read about it here: https://halfwindsorfullthrottle.blogspot.com/2012/11/0-false-18-pt-18-pt-0-0-false-false.html ).
Jenn and Brendan parked their car in Lee's garage at 11pm. We stayed up late, drinking more, and talking about our outings.
On Sunday morning, Lee roused the house with spirited Gospel singing by Tramaine Hawkins, then the Harlem Children Choir, and even Anglican hymns by boys choirs. We stirred a batch of Bloody Marys and sizzled omelettes.
Lee popped champagne and made some bleu cheese/spinach toasts. Jenn charred turkey sausages, and we made Belgian waffles with freshly whipped cream.
Lee drove me to the train station for me to catch an afternoon departure. He told me that good things will come to me--jobs, friendships, exploration--because I already put so much into the Universe and have been unselfish. (As the expression goes, "From his lips to God's ears!") With sincere hugs/kisses, I appreciated his generosity, kind soul, gracious home, fun-spiritedness, and friendship. We had a great time!
Both of Lee's friends assumed that I was glad to return to the city, but I gave the truth that NYC is filthy, outdated, and overpriced. So, being away was actually a treat for me.
Heading home, I reminisced on how the weekend began...
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