Here are some highlights and observations made during our six-day exploration of Manhattan with our two curious, energetic grandsons.
The boys get along with each other, big-brother to kid-brother style. Tyler, the alpha child, is in high school preparing for college. He has straight As and is focused on the exact sciences, though he loves music, plays guitar and taught himself the piano. He has a lot to tell you, and he does not bs. He researches everything. One of his top places to visit was the Museum of Natural History.
Jack is a dramatist. He’s still in middle school, but he’s already been in seven plays, two movies and two commercials. He wanted to see a Broadway play, and not just any play. He wanted to see “The Book of Mormon.” He’s a “South Park fan” and familiar with the musical. Yes, it gets racy in parts, and spicy in others, but the boys already owned the soundtrack. They had memorized all the lyrics and sang them to us to show they wouldn’t be shocked.
We walked and clocked 50 miles of Manhattan. Several of those miles were walked inside the Natural History Museum. That place is vast with 28 buildings and 45 exhibition halls for 33 million specimens. The posted admission prices are modest, but one might pause and wonder “Hey, I’m paying to see 33,000 million specimens spread over 45 exhibitions? I can’t make all that jazz. Can I just pay a fraction of the ticket and see a fraction of the museum?”
The answer to that is yes. At the ticket counter, for general admission, you can pay what you wish. You can pay a buck. The suggested adult price is $23
We got dolled up for our night on Broadway. The boys wore leather shoes and trouser creases. They were so excited, they vibrated. Thanks to Nana, we got good orchestra seats, 12 rows from front.
Jack had been told by his parents, by us, by his other grandparents, by his friends, by his friends’ parents, that he would likely be the youngest person at the play.
He was interested to find out for bragging rights. While the lights were up and people were filing in, Jack took two reconnaissance missions to the bathroom to see if he could find a mate his age to wave and wink at.
He’s a prankster. He was asking men in line at the restroom, “Excuse me. Is this the theater for ‘Lion King’?”
It was a great experience. So much enthusiasm. Never a dull moment. Jaws seldom closed.
Learning Manhattan and its transit options was our lesson for the week. The first two days we took taxis. That gave us transportation and education. Talking cabbies are the best. They’ll tell stories and give advice. Our favorite cabbie had been driving for 22 years. Jack asked him what famous people he’s had in the cab. “Doris Roberts, Harry Belafonte and Rosie O’Donnell so far,” he said.
“Who was the best tipper?”
“Doris Roberts was the worst. She wanted her thirteen cents. She said because she agreed to a selfie, no tip. Harry Belafonte gave me a dollar fifty. Rosie gave me ten bucks.”
When Gino and Patricia arrived midweek from Philadelphia on the MegaBus, Patricia got us onto the subways. She’s familiar. A $3 ticket will get you anywhere.
Once Tyler got tuned into the subway system, he was gone into research land. He began studying the lines intently at every opportunity. It wasn’t long before he was talking like a local. “We will only need the Red and Blue Lines this trip, Papa, mostly the Local Service, but sometimes the Express.” Take me there.
Tyler internalized the Manhattan street grid. “You could plop me down anywhere on the island, Papa, and I could find my way back to the hotel.”
“That’s reassuring,” I told him. “Wanna try it out?”
Jack’s second favorite thing was riding the escalators in Macy’s nine-story department store. Living in flat Sacramento, he hasn’t had much opportunity to ride escalators, and the Macy’s escalators are classy, with solid oak and ash rails, and on the top two floors the slatted steps are also made of wood. Jack asked, “Can we ride them to the top?”
I told him, “Forty-seven years ago, I went to my first big city, Pittsburgh, when I was in high school. We stopped at Kauffman’s Department Store built in 1887 and it had 12 floors with escalators. I’d never seen moving stairs before, so I rode them all the way to the top. Let’s go.”
The top floor was a few acres of furniture. “Oh, I love furniture!” Jack decided. He had to roam the aisles and flop into every comfortable chair and couch. After all our walking, we had to admit, sitting down was comfortable. We spent a relaxing hour up there testing furniture. Smart boy.
Both boys wanted to see Times Square both day and night. We did that. We toured the MOMA. They boys got to see Van Gough’s Starry Night and Dali’s Persistence of Memory melting clocks up close. They took real interest in examining modern works, trying to understand abstract art. Many abstracts are simple forms, or jumbled forms, and the boys had trouble at first taking them seriously. Once a piece of art stirred empathy in them, however, they became more accepting.
Tyler’s favorite piece ended up being a solid white canvas titled “White Painting. Latex house paint applied with a roller and brush.”

Steve Gibbs is a retired Benicia High School teacher who has written a column for The Herald since 1985.

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