Times Square times thirty.

There was a time when time was cruel to Times Square. In the 80s, the grit of neglect had ravaged the heart of the city, and the heart of the city bled in full view of the neglected passers-by. Leases had run out on the grand theatres turned movie palaces turned television studios turned worse. Nathan's left their corner packed up the hot dogs. Homeless youth, dumped a block away at the Port Authority Bus Terminal wandered the square  with fame dancing in their starry eyes, only to be dimmed by this grim reality:

Then, like the breeze of Spring that is presently wafting through my window from that direction, change fell upon the air and art heralded new life and new times in the Square. Artists were commissioned to install works on abandoned storefronts and movie houses and marquees. As in any redevelopment effort, the city wisely realized that any successful improvement in a waning community involved the presence of artists. You see, artists can see through neglect, not by neglecting it, but by analyzing it, scrutinizing it, and finally celebrating it as an inevitable part of history, as a chapter in a book that may turn out quite differently. My favorite part of this process were words. Aphorisms, inscrutable bits of poetry, now appeared on billboards that once read KUNG FU III and THE STORY OF O. Words are the most transformative ammunition in our arsenal of change. And words such as these made us pause, reflect, and look beyond them to the aging beauty of a forgotten era:

People started gathering again in the Square. And when people gather, the wiser but perhaps less lofty of us realize these gatherers have money in their pockets. Money to be gathered from the gathered. And so stores opened, many, many stores, and eateries opened, and Disney re-imagined the lost theatres, and the billboards went higher and brighter and blinked with the frenzy of Las Vegas and beyond. Our Mayor closed down Broadway to vehicles, turning the Square into an enormous outdoor mall. Times Square is now an international spot. Everyone comes to see it when they come to see NYC. This is what NYC is to much of the world, this crossroads of the universe.

And I don't know how I feel about that. The pulse of art has been strangled by the pulse of consumerism. But in the middle of it all is the TKTS Booth, where one can see a Broadway Show for half-price, and a few "parks" of tables and chairs where one might sit and rearrange the frenzy in one's head, pause to take in the throng of humanity passing by, and wonder, "What is the next chapter in this book that never ends?"