35? 35?!?!?! (Broadway & Bowling Green)

Confessions of a New York City Tour Guide:

So a certain bus requested me to be their guide today. Hmm, must've made a good impression on a group leader a year ago or something. We were late, my brother and I, a mix up in information said 57th & 10th when we were supposed to be down at South St. Shit.

Half an hour and a $20 cab ride later, all was well. I didn't recognize the group leader, but he recognized me, and asked for one thing:

To climb the Bull. all right then.

Quick loop around Water st brought us right to the Bowling Green where I led them to one of New York's favorite climb-able sculpture: a 7000 lb, 11 foot long bronze beast. Staring down Broadway so fiercely, it splits upon it's polished horns. Every broker's favorite mascot: The Wall Street Bull.

"In 1987, the stock market was rocked by a terrible crash. People were concerned that the rip-roaring greed-is-good thrills of the 80's had come to an early end, and the dark days they had seen a decade ago were right around the corner. But one SoHo artist, a Sicillian-born sculpter named Arturo Di Modica decided that he was going to design a sculpture to rally the troops back on to the floor. After two years building the piece, he and a few friends loaded it onto a flatbed truck, and after timing the policemen's watch, dropped it off right in front of the stock exchange in the middle of the night. Exactly eleven days before Christmas.

The public was stunned, and the police were, well, unhappy. They impounded it, and Arturo had to pay an impound fine to release it. (His argument against paying was similar to most of those at the impound lot: "This is BULL!") It was moved to the Bowling Green five days later."

And with a straight face I always ask: "Who wants to climb the bull?" See, normally, the kids look at the adults, and the adults look at each other waiting for some sort of approval before a handful of them apprehensively climb on. Six or seven of them slowly make their way on, a couple of pictures are taken, and we move on.

See, this time around, by the time I finished the word "climb" six of them had already made it up there. Not even by the convention means of getting a boost and wrapping a leg around it's neck. I mean, one tall, strapping lad leapt up from behind the thing's rump, grabbed the tail and WOOSH! I couldn't keep 'em off the thing!

Someone asked "what's the record?" I fumbled for a second

"Uh, 19 high schoolers, 24 middle school."

"EASY!" Before I knew it, they had 25 and counting. One on each of the three available feet (fourth foot's innaccessable.), Kids on the top holding on to kids clinging to the side, three squeezing into a spot I thought could fit only one. Eight hanging from the head, three from the horns alone! Squeezing, twisting, getting into positions that would otherwise be thoroughly innapropriate for a group of High School Mormons from Idaho. (Two on the end of the tail. One male, one female. Facing each other? . . .) if, of course, it weren't for the record. I spun around keeping close count until I could not believe the number I had reached.

"35? 35???? You ANIMALS!!!" I cried. Di Modica, and Thomas Nast, the man who first sketched that hard-headed rallying monster. Would have been very, very proud.