GK: .......right now we're going to dim the lights for a brief travelogue entitled, "New York, New York." MUSIC

You fly into New York's LaGuardia Airport (JET LANDING) past the city prison, Rikers Island, where your uncle Art is spending spring vacation (TR: Hey! I see him!), and you land (SCREECH OF TIRES) and (RUNNING FEET, SHEEP AND GOATS) all the passengers stampede up the jetway and (TR JOWLY GIBBERISH) men jabber into cell phones dangling from their heads (TR JOWLY GIBBERISH) and you dash to baggage where your driver is waiting for you. (TR: Hey. Lady. You want a ride?) (SS: Well, okay, sure.) So you climb in (CAR ACCEL) and you drive into Manhattan at a rate of speed that allows you to really get a good look at all the buildings. (SS: My, this is a big city, isn't it.). Alongside, taxicabs playfully cut in ahead of your driver (HORNS) causing him to curse in his native language (TR ARABIC CURSING) as slowly you make your way over to East 23rd Street. (TR ARABIC) $160 including airport and bridge fees and what's called a seatbelt tariff ---- (SS: But hey, the memories last a lifetime.) Here on East 23rd is the Tanzania Hotel which, even though it has no marquee, no lobby, and you must walk up two flights and share a bath still costs (SS: What????) $500 a night. You stuff all your money into a tiny pouch that you duct tape to your left ankle (TAPING) and you head out for a walk (FOOTSTEPS, CAR ALARMS) and find that your footsteps are setting off car alarms. You pass Rockefeller Plaza where a stranger takes your picture in front of the fountain. (FOUNTAIN) (SS: Hope he sends me a copy. Hope he returns my camera.) You get to Central Park where thousands of bicyclists jam the parkway (TRAFFIC PASSING) and roller skaters (PASSING) and horseback riders (WHINNY, HOOF CLOPS) and kids on scooters (SFX) and unicyclists

(TR HIPPIE: One world, one wheel, people) and people on pogo sticks (BOING BOING) and joggers (PANTING) and power walkers (TR: Feel the burn, baby) and dog walkers (YIPS) and a man with a boa constrictor wrapped around his naked body (TR: Hi. You want to pet Cocoa? SNAKE HISS) and a man in a wagon being pulled by fifty ferrets (SFX, TR: Giddyap. WHIP). Into the great park you go (TR: Spare change?) past the green open spaces (FN: Got some change you don't have plans for?) along the beautiful walkways (TR: Want to get rid of some quarters?) and around the lake (FN: Got a dollar bill you aren't using right now?) and you walk past the tennis courts (TENNIS VOLLEY, SLOW, WITH SLAM AND LOB AND SLAM AND LOB AND SLAM AND LOB AND SLAM INTO NET) and the birdwatchers gathered to watch the screech owls (SCREECH), a bird that has learned to snatch wallets (FLUTTER OF WINGS, SS CRY OF ALARM). Here in the plaza by the lake, elderly Latvians (TR LATVIAN) are doing their native hopak to a tape on a cassette player (ACCORDION, SLIGHTLY SLOW, FLAT) as a kid with a boombox passes (HIP HOP RHYTHM). Now it's time to go to Staten Island, the part of town most like the place you came from. So you head down to the subway and wait for a train. There's an announcement on the ceiling speakers (TINNY GIBBERISH) and though the sound system cost $14 million, you can't understand a single word. Finally the Number 1 arrives, one of the red trains. (CREAKING, RUMBLING SUBWAY) The trains are color-coded to represent the appropriate level of anxiety. (TR ON P.A.: Watch the closing doors and avoid making eye contact.) You remember what Uncle Tobin told you about the subway. (TR OLD MAN: It's good fast cheap transportation. Just remember that the person next to you may be armed and on heavy painkillers.) You take the train to the Staten Island ferry (FERRY HORN, GULLS), a romantic voyage indeed surrounded by colorful commuters

(TR: Hey, whatcha looking at? Mindjer own business) as Miss Liberty slips past, and the lights of lower Manhattan glitter like beacons in the city of fashion and the arts, the city so often compared to Biblical cities of long ago, the city so nice they named it twice, New York, New York. (BIG MUSICAL FINISH)