The Elephant Walk

The Elephant Walk



This is one of those Only in New York stories.  Or in this case, New York, Santa Barbara, and then New York again.



It is nearing midnight.  I am on the phone with Doc Searls and we
are discussing unruly children, blogospheric disruptions and disorders of sorts,
in-line skates and Blackberries (he invented the former, I invented the
latter, but we both cede credit, riches, and follow-through to others) and good old actor William Bendix



Yeah, that guy, the one who played Babe Ruth and starred in early television's Life of Riley.  He also played Chester A. Riley on Radio and in film.  There are some in Jersey who claim an aircraft company was named after this Brooklyn-born actor.



As we are talking I have the World Baseball Classic
final on the TV; sound down so I can just barely hear Jon Miller and
Joe Morgan calling the action.  Japan is slaughtering Cuba, ad Doc
and I are alternately gossiping and talking shop.



Doc's other phone rings.  He answers it and notes that now he's
got blogging New Yorkers in either ear.  Both, being true to our
location, talking [to him] at once.  On the other line is Britt Blaser
Doc requests that we speak one at a time, to avoid cacophonous NY
stereo in the middle of his head.  But Britt and I can't hear each
other (separate phone lines, not conferenced), so Doc must
coordinate.  Imagine Doc as a conductor,
leading the NY players from his podium in Santa Barbara.  No
baton, though, just a cell phone and a standard phone in either hand.



Turns out that Britt needs some New York directions.  "You're calling me from 34th Street in need of directions?  Call Dean, if anyone would know, he's the one," says Doc to Britt.  "Oh, yeah, that. Right.  Ask Dean.  Call him, he'll know for sure." 
Doc then tells me that Britt needs to know something about elephants in
New York, walking on 34th street.  I get it immediately, already
know the question and the answer.



Moments later Britt calls me directly.



He's at the entrance to the Midtown Tunnel at 34th Street and 2nd
Avenue. There are cops all over, the entrance is closed.  Tonight
is the annual Barnum & Bailey Circus Elephant Walk . . .the animals
come in on a train to a depot in Queens, then walk through the Midtown
Tunnel to Manhattan and down 34th Street to Madison Square
Garden.  This is for a few reasons. 



First, elephants are too
big to ride the subways or busses.  Forget cabs - those drivers
can be so difficult with who they'll pick up, even under normal
circumstances!   Second, the 34th Street train
terminal (right below the Garden) doesn't have facilities for
animals.  And third, for reasons unknown, Barnum & Bailey's
animal transport caravan always stops in the borough of Queens to let
the elephants walk through the Midtown Tunnel.



As fate would have it I not only know about this, but I also have some personal experience associated with the elephant walk.






Way back a long time ago -- in the days when only a scant few people
had a personal computer, and IBM had those Computer Stores and the
Charlie Chaplin image campaign-- I was dating the woman to whom we now
refer as "the ex."  She lived in an apartment on 34th Street
between  2nd and 3rd  Avenues, right by the little teeny two
and a half block street that  is an access road to the Midtown
Tunnel.  The back window of that apartment overlooked that little
street.



So one night each year her apartment had a photographer's dream view of the Elephant Walk.



And now, in 2006, 24 years since then, Britt and I are on the phone,
and he wants to see the Elephant Walk.  Britt wonders if they will
be coming our of the 2nd Avenue entrance (which was closed for the
elephants) and if not, where might they be.  I pointed him in the
direction of the ex's old apartment, and that short little street where
the elephants emerge from the tunnel.  For a few hours one night
each year the traffic --that is, the elephants-- will be going in the
opposite direction.



In keeping with standard NYC wisdom of crowds and lack of 
downline sharing of critical information, the cops at the main entrance
to the Tunnel just asked pedestrians to disperse, and noted that "...there weren't gonna be no elephants over here, no.  Yeah, dey're in de tunnel, but not here.  Now move on please, huh."



When Britt got to that little street by the ex's old place, one cop had
no idea where or when the elephants were coming from, but another cop
(surely a more seasoned veteran of the force) assured him that, "...yeah,
this is where they come from.  But they cut across 35th street
after they leave the tunnel from this direction and then go over to
34th Street to The Garden.
"



Can't you just hear that coming out of the mouth of a NYC cop, one who
might look just like William Bendix, Brooklyn accent and all?






From the YouTube site, here's a video of last night's Elephant Walk, featuring the PETA protesters.