Reviews

Why Was This Man Reading This Book?

11/21/2018

F Train Reading Room

There I was on the F train, creeping (and I do mean creeping) through my home borough of Queens on Tuesday.

On my irregular returns, I like to stand, the better to observe my fellow Queensites. (Don’t judge us all by one vile apple from the lush and diverse barrel.)

The man was deep into a paperback, reading with his lips.

I focused. The title was “Los Secretos de la Mente Millionario” by one T. Harv Eker.

The subtitle was: Cómo Dominar el Juego Interior de la Riqueza.”

The man was so clearly interested in “The Secrets of the Millionaire Mind: How to Dominate the Inner Game of Riches” that he did not notice me staring or fumbling with my iPhone to click off a photo.

I hope this does not sound unkind, but the man did not look like somebody involved in the wonderful world of money. He looked like he was coming back from a 7-3 shift somewhere, work shoes and all, and God bless him for that.

In a way, we are all mysteries. As a reporter, as a writer and reader of books, I would have liked an insight into the human heart: how he happened to be reading – not just carrying but reading – a book about getting rich.

Alas, I am not my friend Christine Lavin, the folk singer who has graced this city for years, observing us in subways and supermarkets, chatting with strangers as well as friends (check out this link, if you don’t know Christine.)

The other day in Metropolitan Diary, the New York Times’ homage to the city that gives it its name, I read a charming anecdote by somebody who had a personal conversation with a cab driver – about triplets, for goodness’ sakes.

I glanced at the byline, and realized it was Christine, who had been schlepping her guitar back from a gig.

But read it yourself:
https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/19/nyregion/metropolitan-diary.html

Christine would have gotten the man in the F train to talk, even though she admits she cannot speak Spanish. (I speak un poquito.) She would have unraveled the secret of the paperback about being rich. She would have written a song about it.

My curiosity endures. Did the man buy the book? (E-Bay price: a dollar or two.) Did a friend urge it on him? Did a ubiquitous evangelist of some cause hand him a copy in a long subway corridor? I will never know.

Some on-line reviews make T Harv Eker sound like the Dr. Phil of financial advice; others make him sound like a prophet.

I only know that I see great things when I return to the Queens IND line of my youth. But I don’t have the courage to ask a question or two. Que triste. How sad.

Alan Rubin link

11/21/2018 03:55:16 pm

Great subway story. I have always enjoyed taking in the people scene when traveling underground.

I began riding the subways in 1943 at age eight shortly after we moved to 190 Street and Fort Washington Avenue from Broadway and 141 Street. The elevated Queens ride of your story is one of my favorites.

Christine Lavin has the right approach. I find that a smile and either of two phases will open up the world to you; “Can I help you? or “Where are you from?”

The first is used mostly when someone seems in need. “Where are you from?” is the must use entree whether traveling in a cab or the close confines of an elevator.

We had lived for many years at 320 Central Park West and 92 Street. Our elevator bank served only two apartments per floor and no one spoke when I got on at the fourth floor. This changed when I said hello or good morning to break the silence.

Cab drives are hardworking people who are from around the world. We have often met people from foreign countries and cities that we had visited.

Uber is another lively topic.

“Just saying hello” when traveling abroad and domestically had led us to many unusual and out of the way places.

George. Next time, even if you do not speak the language, give it a shot.

mike from Whitestone

11/21/2018 04:00:18 pm

Gracias amigo and feliz dia del accion de gracias manana. (A DR friend suggested this over Dia del Pavo!). Thanks for sharing and reminding me of the beauty of our melting pot.
As well, time for me to get back to the Dan Barry book with the bookmark 1/3 in.
Good luck Ron Hunt, I remember him towards the end of his career. Parkinsons like any illness, s--ks.
Happy Thanksgiving to all!

bruce

11/21/2018 07:46:39 pm

george,

nice piece.

i'm a serious people watcher.

i often strike up conversations with strangers both during my rambles here and when i'm visiting another country.

some damn interesting stories and people often packaged in a way that surprises the hell out of you when you talk to 'em.

and 'vile apple'....geez george he's just tryin' to lift up you poor pathetic americans from the incompetence (incompetents?) of dozens of pathetic potus who drug youse doon until 22 months ago.

it might take him 3-4 terms to undo the horrible mess they all left him with.

hope your thanksgiving is a good one tho i still think you should celebrate it at a more reasonable time like we do in the true north strong and free.....

Christine Lavin link

11/21/2018 07:47:01 pm

But what is the woman next to him reading? Is that a book, too? By coincidence, George, I brought back the "Lavin Lending Library" at my concerts, but it's now called the "Bob Minzesheimer Memorial Lending Library." Bob was the book critic at USAToday and he used to send me books that he liked, not having any shelf space for them, and I'd read them, and not having any shelf space I would give them away, one at a time, asking whoever took the book to pass it along when finished.

This past Saturday I gave away, "Shade," the book by Obama's photographer Peter Sousa, that juxtaposes photos of Obama and tweets by Trump. I'm so happy someone has found humor in the dire political climate we are enduring. I also gave away two copies of "Lucy Gayheart" by Willa Cather. Here's a video (sans spoilers) about Joanne Woodward's dream for the book: https://vimeo.com/78783124.

I don't know if you know this, but my parents met on a subway back in the 1940s. With so many people staring at their cellphones, it's hard to imagine romances starting like that anymore. Seeing someone actually reading a book seems endearingly quaint. At first I was afraid he was reading a translation of The Art Of The Deal. Glad it wasn't that. But good luck to him! And thanks for the shout out!

Altenir Silva

11/22/2018 06:08:53 am

Dear George,

It’s a perfect story for the Thanksgiving. A workman in the subway reading a book about the world of money.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

Altenir (from Brazil)

Randolph

11/22/2018 09:04:51 am

George,
Thanks for the nice story.
I have a family story you guys might like on this Thanksgiving day.
In 1910 my grandfather, and Italian stonemason came to America and passed fthrough Ellis Island. When he emerged into the city, he had a slip of paper with the address of a boarding house in the city. He could not speak English and he needed to find the boarding house, where another Italian stonemason from the dolomites was living.
He got on the street car, not knowing where he was going. Apparently, he tried to show the address to other people on the street car, so they would help him to make it to the boarding house.
A man on the street car came to his assistant. He sat down beside him and they rode several miles through the city. The man signaled nonverbally that it was time to get up and that he would help him to the boarding house. My grandfather got up and started to follow the stranger . At which point, an elderly woman reached out from her seat and grabbed my grandfather by the arm. She shook her head and let my Grand father know that he should not get off the streetcar with the seemingly helpful stranger, That he was in danger.
My grandfather stayed with the elderly woman and rode the streetcar several more miles. At a certain point she got up and escorted my grandfather from the train. She walked him multiple blocks through the city and delivered him, not only to the boarding house, but to the door of his friend from Italy.
This was one of my mothers favorite stories: a story of evil and of goodness and kindness. Both were living on the street car in New York City. My grandfather went on to live a successful life with his children and grandchildren, all of which became American citizens.

So on this Thanksgiving day, I choose to think about that kind woman on a street car in 1910 in New York City. Her kindness to a stranger influenced the fabric of my families life.

Peace to all of you guys today. May we have more active that kindness in the days to come.
Randolph

George Vecsey

11/22/2018 10:52:31 am

Wow: What a great response to my post.
Alan is a great schmoozer. He is right; I could have engaged the man. But I just had a nice lunch with a pal of mine (part Latino) and didn't have the psychic energy.
Mike From Whitestone and I are both proud of picking up new phrases in the Second Language of our country. Mike, I used the same "Buen Dia de Accion de Gracias" for two men who worked hard cleaning leaves at dusk yesterday. It's who we are.
Bruce, your note reminds me that Canadians are smart; but I do believe the US Thanksgiving is timely for when the Pilgrims had some kind of celebration.
Chris: I hate to give away any book that has any connection to friends, family, people who gifted them, or wrote them. Of course, with a house far too big for us now, we have room for books. Barely, BTW: Check Randy's note below: I think it could make a song for you.
Altenir, with his kind humor and the perception of a film screenwriter in Rio, sees the essence:a human being with hope and curiosity. I'm glad I observed that man.
And Randolph from Appalachia: What a beautiful New York story. I think of old ladies who warned my wife not to show any jewelry walking in a dicey neighborhood in Napoli in 1990....the classic Italian wave of index finger, Too many scugnizzi in that area of town. So you have New York heritage. Didn't know.
Happy Thanksgiving t all. I am grateful you are in my life., (Plus, magnificent Thanksgiving emails from Israel and London.
GV

Alan Rubin link

11/22/2018 02:22:42 pm

Of the many things in life that I am thankful for, George and those who frequent his blog rank right up there.

Today's Nicholas Kristof's NYT article fits right in with this topic.

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/21/opinion/thanksgiving-refugees-immigrants-dad.html

Two kind women showed kindness to his non-English father from the Ukraine, one an English women on the boat they that brought them to Ellis Island and the other on the subway who helped him find his friend.

My father and his family escaped from Ukraine in 1912 at age twelve. They escaped antisemitism and the killing of Jews by sleigh at night. They bribed their way across many borders and settled in NYC.

My dad almost did not make it. He fell off the sleigh during the night and was not discovered missing until the next morning. They followed the tracks back and picked him up.

It it had snowed during the night I might not be here to tell the tale.

An enjoyable holiday to all.

Alan Rubin link

11/22/2018 02:44:08 pm

Slight correction. My dad arrived in 1921. He entered illegally from Canada which may be why I have such affection for Canadians. He had to sneak back into Canada in order to come back into the states legally.

Randolph.

11/22/2018 03:07:12 pm

Alan,
Thank you for the beautiful story. I will carry that story with me to the dimming of this day.
Peace,

Randy

John Jeansonne link

11/25/2018 04:36:02 pm

Just to see someone READING on the subway is encouraging in the age of iPhones.

Alan Rubin link

11/26/2018 02:55:45 pm

John-you are correct.

It is not uncommon to see four people at a table in a restaurant all talking on their cell phones.

It would not surprise me if they were talking to each other.

Gene Palumbo

11/27/2018 01:03:27 am

Alan - You wrote, "It would not surprise me if they were talking to each other." It really does happen. I wish I had saved a piece I read a while back. It went something like this: A teacher approached an outdoor table where four students were operating their cell phones. Who were they communicating with? Each other, as she found out when she sat down to speak with them.

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