The Neighborhood

Hey Neighbor! Welcome back to THE NEIGHBORHOOD!  This week’s story is about magical NYC holiday tradition.   Every mid November, right before Thanksgiving, something magical starts to happen.  Wooden structures start to erect on street corners. Then, the day after Thanksgiving, their purpose is revealed. Trucks drive in from upstate, Pennsylvania and Vermont to bring Christmas Trees to lean on those structures. The hope is that they will be sold and grace the homes of city dwellers.  The fascinating part is that someone is always there 24 hours a day.   In the suburbs where I grew up, we would go to a farm or a tree vendor. There was a way for the owners to “close up shop” and go home. Not for the people selling trees in NYC. A few years ago, I saw a fascinating documentary on Netflix called  Tree Man . It chronicles a holiday season for a tree vendor from Canada. He leaves his family on Thanksgiving Day and makes the trek to NYC, where he sells trees ...

Hey Neighbor! Welcome back to THE NEIGHBORHOOD!  This week’s story is about memories and what makes them come to forefronts of our minds. I am working my morning shift at Levain Bakery and a song from my childhood comes on the radio.   It’s a Backstreet Boys hit and I can still remember every lyric, as well as all of the music video choreography.  It amazes me how things can be tucked into memory and it all comes rushing back in an instant.  Music and scents are memory triggers for me.   Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  A classic childhood lunch item.  The second I smell it now, I’m instantly transported back to my preschool.  I can picture the playground equipment that we would play on after lunch.  I remember my Dad picking me up after school and taking me to the gas station across the street for a push-up pop.   Cold brew.  I make it everyday at work.  The second I smell it, my memory triggers the early days at...

Hey Neighbor! Welcome back to THE NEIGHBORHOOD!  This week’s story is about home.   Home.  I love that word.  Home is New York City.  Most specifically, Hamilton Heights in Upper Manhattan.  It has been my home for the past 10 years and I love it.  My little corner in this massive city.  My cozy nook.  My safe haven.  It is my favorite place.   As an artist, a home can seem unattainable.  Artists constantly move around from gig to gig, it almost feels like you don’t have a home.  However, I crave one  I need it.  A place to set my roots.  A place that’s mine.   The day I move into the apartment, I start walking to the subway to go to work, and I hear a saxophonist playing on my block.  It’s like a movie and felt so New York to me.  To this day, I constantly hear neighbors playing the piano, or opera singers rehearsing.  A man down the corner reads tarot cards.  The street is lin...

Hey Neighbor! Welcome back to THE NEIGHBORHOOD!  This week’s story is about holding on to one’s child-like wonder.   I like to think that I have been put on this Earth for a reason.  There’s a purpose.  Why else would God put a curly haired girl in the arms of her incredible parents 36 years ago in Philadelphia?  Things happen for a reason.   As a baby, I take a while to actually talk and walk, but boy don’t you know that I am already singing and dancing?  Already saying to my father, “How do you do?”  Already laughing.  I sit in preschool and I am supposed to be concentrating on speech therapy, but there’s a music class down the hall!  The teacher calls my mom.  “Mrs Ostick, we need to change Jackie’s therapy time because she is getting distracted by the music class next door.”  Let me tell you, NOTHING HAS CHANGED.  Come into my work place when Whitney or Britney or Frozen is playing and I am singing along, not...

Hey Neighbor! Welcome back to THE NEIGHBORHOOD!  This week’s story is about finding community during a scary time.   The world is so different now.  We wear masks.  There’s this overwhelming sense of fear.  People are stressed and scared.  I never imagined in my wildest dreams that the world would turn out like this.  Even on March 8th 2020, I never anticipated this.  This new normal.  Please God, don’t let this be normal.   The COVID 19 Pandemic begins in March 2020 and I am still working, so I stay in New York.  It’s odd.  The restaurants are empty.  The streets, which are usually bustling, are quiet.  People that come into the bakery are obviously overwhelmed.  They are distressed but grateful that they can get their coffee and a sweet treat somewhere.   A sense of normalcy.  I’m so happy that I can help.  But like I said, it’s quiet.  The streets are relatively empty.  And then, ...

Hey Neighbor! Welcome back to THE NEIGHBORHOOD!  This week’s story is about one of my favorite Broadway divas, Elaine Stritch!   I remember this day like it was yesterday.  It’s Spring Break during my senior year of college.  My class is getting ready to open our production of Charlotte’s Web.  We end up being able to take a few days off during our break, so I head up to New York City to prep for my eventual move after graduation.  I have an interview and I am going to stay with family friends and try to see a show.  I’m excited to be in New York and pretend I live there before I actually do.  While I’m waiting for the Bieber bus, I see a van drive by and I swear it’s the head of my Performing Arts Department, John Bell. Sure enough it is!  He walks up to the bus stop and we both have a “what are you doing here” moment.  We chat the entire 90 minute bus ride about our upcoming adventures in the city.  I have a job interview and plan...

 Hey Neighbor! Welcome back to THE NEIGHBORHOOD!  This week’s story is about my Grandma and her wonderful recipe for life.   I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandma recently.  Maybe it’s because the holidays are coming up.  Maybe it’s because I’ve had a lot of time to reflect due to the pandemic.  Maybe it’s because I saw a picture of her and her siblings yesterday at their annual Christmas party and it made me miss her so much that it hurt.   She believed in me.  When I was in grade school, I had such bad anxiety that it was hard to face the day’s schedule.  My daily ritual was that I would get ready for the day, have my breakfast and then call my grandma.  We would chat for a few minutes and at the end of the call she would say, “I have you in my pocket.”  I felt safe, supported, heard and seen.  She listened to me talk and we would share our plans for the day.  I never really thought about this until now, but she took...