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Wednesday, March 31 New York's Moynihan
I went to the opening reception for the exhibition, “New York’s Moynihan” at the Museum for the City of New York. I felt honored to be invited by members of Daniel Patrick Moynihan’s family to go to the reception but not nearly as honored as I’ve felt to have had the privilege to meet this great man on several occasions and to get to know aspects of his life intimately thru the eyes of his children. The crowd at the reception was just as I would have expected, chock full of older political types, an upper crust of the type of New Yorkers most politicians court for their ample campaign donations, a mish mosh of New York administration folks, but mostly, I did have the sense, mostly, folks who really liked or even loved Pat Moynihan. That’s the thing about Pat, people really adored him. They might not have agreed with everything he stood for politically, or perhaps they did, but they always adored him. Why? Well peeking at the absurd rain hat and bow tie on display that he perpetually wore, one might say because he was a true character, an independent thinker who marched to his own drum. Personally, I think, it was because no matter what he said, you always felt he was telling the truth. How rare is that in politics? The big press moment of the night came when Senator Chuck Schumer and NYC Mayor Bloomberg arrived. Both men stood about a foot from me while they posed for the cameras. Honey’s it took every ounce of strength I had not to shove my face in Bloomberg’s and say, “HEY BLOOMIE WHY ARE YOU RUINING NEW YORK CITY?” Followed by a hearty..."By the way, can I bum a smoke from you!" But I didn’t mostly because I didn’t want to cast on a shadow on a long over-due tribute to a truly great man….and well also, I didn’t want to get arrested. Of course, having nothing to do with my personal relationship to the Moynihan clan I will always appreciate the man who stood up in the United Nations and protested the horrific resolution that equated Zionism to racism by stating, “The United States declares that it does not acknowledge, it will not abide by, it will never acquiesce in this infamous act.’ 16 years later the abomination of this act was revoked. As a lover of old buildings and slices of visual history that are so often destroyed to make room for big business, new apartment buildings, high glass office buildings and the like, I will always feel eternally grateful for Moynihan's work saving so many slices of old New York and old Washington for that matter. He was tireless in his work to save the magnificence of yesterday. Recently I went to visit the American Indian Museum on Bowling Green in NYC. The museum is housed in the old U.S. Custom House, an amazing building, a true slice of original New York City industry that stands proudly today largely because of this man. Indeed Moynihan was so tireless and successful in his pursuits to save old New York that the new Penn Station to be housed in the old Farley Building, another slice of great old New York, will be named in his honor. Going to the reception with members of the family of Mr. Moynihan who have become my family over the past many, many years and one new family member who has become the closest thing I have to a daughter, made me feel like I was somehow related to him as well. I didn’t have anything to say to the hordes of higher end silver-haired people nibbling at caviar on hard-boiled eggs or smoked salmon canapés, but I did feel as I strolled past them, that I had just as much right to be there as they did. If you’re a New Yorker, or you find yourself in NYC sometime between now and September, please trudge up on uptown, WAY UPTOWN to 104th and 5th Ave. and check out New York’s Moynihan at the Museum of the City of New York. I promise the ride up is worth it, even if you do have you get your passport stamped at 100th Street. Daniel Patrick Moynihan, who lived in Hell’s Kitchen, shined shoes on the streets of NYC as a boy, went to school in East Harlem and ultimately became the most listened too, most remembered, most enduring Senator that anyone I know can recall, who became the man now regarded as the greatest political intellectual since Abraham Lincoln, is a slice of New York. He is part of the rich under-layer of New York. He pulses in the veins of New York adding flavor and texture. He is Checker Cabs and Coney Island Hot Dogs, carriage rides thru Central Park and coffee houses on Macdougal Steet. He is New York’s Moynihan.
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