By Alec Pruchnicki
With police profiling many young black and Hispanic males as criminals, at least before the recent decrease in stop and frisk searches, and the public stereotyping many white police as racists, it might be a good time to rime-beer what we were taught as children. Don’t judge a book by its cover. I was reminded of this years ago on the sub-way, where making snap judgments is usually considered a necessary survival skill. When trapped in an enclosed area with a bunch of strangers, it’s easy to fall back on age, race, dress, behavior, and even odor, to decide who is safe and who might cause trouble.
During evening rush hour, I entered the subway in The Village, headed to an after hours work meeting while wearing my favorite tie. It bears an image everyone recognizes, melting clock faces on a bleak orange brown landscape. Few people know that this is from a painting by the Spanish painter Salvador Dali, or that the painting is usually called “The Persistence of Memory.”
Two young Latina women, probably teenagers, were standing in front of me. I’m not a good judge of age or of how people dress, but these two looked and sounded like any average teenagers who you might see hanging out on any corner in the city, although they could just as easily have been two honors students at Columbia. One turned to me, looked me over, and said, “Nice tie.”
Having grown up in New York City, I knew full well that you’re not supposed to have conversations with strangers on the subway, or even make eye contact, but since these kids didn’t look weird, psychotic or dangerous, I thought it would be safe to answer.
“Yeah, it’s my favorite tie.”
Before I could decide on whether to say anything else, she surprised me with “Salvador Dali” and then shocked me when she said “The Persistence of Memory.”
This average teenager wasn’t so average. I mentioned to her that this painting was at the Museum of Modern Art, and she said that she hadn’t been there since it was renovated, especially with admission being so expensive. Trying to be helpful, I said that it was free Friday nights, but she correctly pointed out that it was also packed on Friday nights. She did say that there was another Sur-realist special show at the Met which she wanted to see. Having just seen the Max Ernst exhibition there, I gave her my opinion of it (positive, I like most Surrealists) and we discussed that show, other artists, and other museums for a few minutes.
No, not an average teenager. She knew the art muse-ums well. Museums, of all types, have always been a major strength of this city and even teenagers, who might be interested in little else, can find one they like. Many native New Yorkers, reminiscing about their childhoods, will include a few words about their favorite museums. If I ever write my memoirs I will have a section on my childhood visits to The Museum of Natural History, the Planetarium and the Met, just as she will probably describe her visits to the art museums. Some day future New Yorkers will talk about their visits to the Whitney Museum in the Meatpacking District.
I came to my stop and was really tempted to just stay on the train and forget the meeting since I was enjoying this unexpectedly pleasant conversation. Instead, I said good-bye, wished her well with her museum explorations, and chalked this up as a unique New York City experience. But, I still ride the same subway, and occasionally wear the same tie, so maybe someday we’ll bump into each other again and our conversation will continue.
