Frameworks

I invented the theory of Conservation of Scaffolding in New York City to explain the fact that, in any given moment in our neighborhood, about 25% of the buildings appear to be draped in scaffolding and fabric. I don't know what work exactly gets done on this scaffolding. Candidates include: sandblasting, window replacement, rappelling for fun and profit... (?)

Today, I saw a crew removing some of the scaffolding at the end of our block at Central Park West. Hooray! Then, walking farther west, another set of scaffolding was being erected in front of the Duane Reade at Columbus. Damn.

I love and hate scaffolding. When it rains, scaffolding gives you another shelter from the storm, a place to shake off your umbrella and watch Nature take a shot at scrubbing this city clean. Just make sure you don't bump into all of the other umbrella bearers underneath it. When the sun shines again, though, scaffolding is just one of many, many things that will remind you that you live as a Morlock now, unable to see the full might of the star that gives all things life. On the plus side, you won't worry much about a sunburn while you walk the streets.

Don't try to walk underneath scaffolding without some awareness of the kid riding your shoulders, either. While benign to all except lion hunters and NBA players, all of the wicked angles and jutting work lights pose a danger to your kid, especially after she has given up walking and refuses to walk home one more step without sixteen meltdowns. You might find yourself doing my same dance, weaving between people and vertical bars, allowing yourself to be crushed by forty pounds of pure angry as you duck below the far-more-dangerous horizontal ones.

Then just wait.

Just wait until your kid decides that all of the playground climbing was just rehearsal for the real test of body and soul as she begins to scale scaffolding despite all of your warnings to the contrary. Sometimes, I wish they would cover scaffolding with the same clear plastic spikes they use to keep pigeons from roosting and pooping on overhangs. You wouldn't even have to put it everywhere, especially if it was hard to see, because kids wouldn't know and would start to remember to exercise caution after the millionth time they sliced open their hands.

Maybe I'm wrong about the reason for scaffolding, and therefore my own reaction. Instead of getting upset that crews are hiding these historical facades and blue sky from view, I should celebrate the fact that the buildings are getting their own exoskeletons. Godzilla comes out at the end of the week. It's high time we figured out some way to defend this city against monster lizard attacks. Go, go, scaffolding!