There is screaming. I am screaming at my kids because we live in NYC, and we should do stuff that you can only do in NYC, and they are screaming because they don’t want to go. But we don’t care that they don’t want to go, and we make them! Yeah, that’s right.
I mean, Jesus, it’s not like we’re asking them to tromp through rooms of Dutch masters or something. This is a cool light show in DUMBO; the kind of culture-ish thing kids probably enjoy once they get there. And if our expectation is correct, and they do like it, we get a delicious I-told-you-so moment.
Well, fuck, the I-told-you-so moment belonged to them this time, but not because the show wasn’t cool. We got out of the F train at York, around 8pm last Saturday night, along with many, many other light-show enthusiasts. Likewise, the streets and sidewalks en route to the main viewing spot were paaaacked.
After a lot of wending and some light shoving, we arrived at one of the main viewing points -- ready to be dazzled, kids? -- just in time to learn that the show is closing down three hours early, because the size of the crowds were a public safety issue. We did get to see a cop say “Disperse!” which I thought was kind of exciting and maybe made the whole trip worthwhile, um, right, kids?