December 23, 2003

December 22, 2003

CHRISTMAS IN NEW YORK

The winter solstice provides rare and unusual opportunities to the experienced urban anthropologist to observe the natives of Manhattan in response to extreme situations. The winter solstice has been reported by Feldkreis, et al (1924) to be ineluctably linked with Christian and pagan rituals involving the spending of money.

According to Stupf and Nonsenz (1936) the intensity of the activity begins on the solstice and reaches a climax three days later. During that time Manhattan natives have been known to succumb to bankruptcy or exhaustion, whichever came first. During these three crucial days, the Christian principles relating to God and Mammon are temporarily suspended.

Our observers began in the least dangerous part of our selected area—Madison Avenue and 79th Street—and soon noted that all the natives had gender-specific attitudes about fur. Males and females were both fur-wearing animals but the females wore their furs on the outside and the males wore theirs on the inside. Also noted was that the males often carried small, ugly dogs in their arms, presumably because the poor creatures were victims of some form of paralysis.

Soon our observers noted a crowd inside a shop called The Sharper Image. Many customers were slouched in chairs that were massaging or vibrating them, and the sales staff did not seem able to keep up with the demand for attention from the crowd.

For four or five hundred dollars you could buy a pair of wireless boxing robots—with a remote—to amuse the children.

There seemed a big run on talking picture frames of all sizes and on the “CD Radio Sound Soother with Aluminum Cone Speaker Technology” through which one could command 20 soothing sounds to appear and disappear at will.

A few shameless egoists were looking into the possibility of purchasing a “Personal Air Purifier” to carry with them on their next plane trip.

Not many takers for the “Talking Pedometer” or the “Body Fat Manager,” our observers noticed. This didn’t seem like a group that took easily to having anything of theirs managed, especially their body fat.

And the “Quiet Power Tie Rack” which allowed a fellow to view 72 ties in 20 whisper-quiet seconds seemed like a throwback to the twentieth century since there wasn’t a man in the entire store who seemed to own a tie, let alone 72 ties.

However, the “Turbo-Groomer 5.0” which cuts your nasal hair at 6,000 rpms was fairly flying out of the store. It did ear hairs as well and they couldn’t write the orders up fast enough.

But it was the odor-neutralizing Ionic Pet Bath which turned out to be the star of the show. The well bred but frantic customers were practically snarling to get their hands on this gizmo. Understandable, considering all the crippled dogs they owned.

A few blocks down Madison, at 72nd Street, our observers encountered a moving inter-faith phenomenon. Mr. Ralph Lifschutz is the Jewish proprietor of a clothing store on the south-east corner. He has turned this grand building, once the Rhinelander mansion, into his fantasy. Each room in this house is decorated in the manner of a wealthy Anglo-American aristocrat. The rooms contain English saddles, silver-framed photos of elegant ladies and gentlemen, steamer trunks, deep leather armchairs, riding boots, and polo sticks; family portraits (well, they were somebody’s family) line the walls. Except for the merchandise tastefully racked and shelved, any WASP in Manhattan would feel at home requesting a Bombay Sapphire Gin Martini, straight up, stirred, not shaken, from one of the attentive, androgynously beautiful salespersons.

It is only the wealthiest from the world over who come to shop at Mr. Lifschutz’s establishment, drawn by the ambience, the highest prices in the neighborhood, and because they know him as Ralph Lauren. Our observers watched two beautiful people contribute $7000 to help Mr. Lauren celebrate his Hannukah by buying a lovely antique pearl necklace. The scene was out of a thirties movie. The salesman was played by that poofiest of salesmen Franklin Pangborn, the woman was Carole Lombard with $50,000 worth of surgery around the eyes, and the guy was sporting a $500 hair-do and one of those crippled dogs in his arms.

As they neared Tiffany’s on Fifth Avenue, our observers noticed that the crowds outside had become so restless and unruly in their frustration to get in and spend money that it was necessary to provide uniformed personnel to keep them in a line that stretched half a block behind a velvet rope.

But the center of the spending universe on this winter solstice seemed to be where Saks Fifth Avenue and Rockefeller Plaza meet. Here the crowds were so thick and the lines to see the displays in the Saks windows so long that our observers despaired of being able to complete their observations without fear of being trampled in the rush to throw money at anyone who had something to sell.

They tried to buy a bag of half a dozen roasted chestnuts but the price quoted by the chestnut seller was $3. They demurred, saying the price was too high, but he shrugged his shoulders and sold the bag to the person behind them. Probably not an urban anthropologist.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight.