The Irwins Do NYC: Bon Jovi, Cheap Pizza and Pregnant Mannequins

There are two kinds of people in this world. The first kind carefully researches every detail of a trip, creates spreadsheets, color-codes itineraries, and books reservations a year in advance. That was my wife, Lisa – before she met me. Now, we just “see what happens.” She loves it.

Monday

Our trip officially began on Monday, July 6, with a drive to Poughkeepsie, where we boarded Metro-North for what has become one of my favorite ways to enter New York City. Somewhere along the ride, I did what every responsible traveler does these days—I asked Facebook where we should go while we were in the city. The internet, as always, didn’t disappoint. There: a plan. After arriving at Grand Central, we made the walk toward our hotel, but not before making a quick stop in front of the iconic New York Public Library. Naturally, I posed for a picture holding the July issue of Xperience Monthly. You have to represent wherever you go, right? Our home for the next two nights was the Life Hotel, formerly the original headquarters of Life magazine. As someone who digs history, I loved knowing that journalists, photographers, and editors once walked those same halls producing one of the most influential magazines in America.

Once we got settled, we headed over to our first social media suggestion: The Museum of Sex. If you’re expecting some wild, over-the-top experience, it’s actually much more of an art exhibit than anything else. It was interesting and entertaining. That said … it could’ve been just a little “sexier.” I’m just saying. Rain rolled into the city for a while, forcing us to retreat back to the hotel. We responded the only way two exhausted tourists could—we cracked open a couple White Claws, watched “Everybody Loves Raymond,” and waited for Mother Nature to cooperate. Eventually, the skies cleared, and we hit the streets again.

We wandered by the Empire State Building. We admired it from the sidewalk but decided against climbing it—not because it’s illegal, well … it is, but mainly because some other couple had literally done that a few days earlier to propose. And now, King Kong has entered the chat. We moved on. Next, Lisa announced she needed to buy a bra. Simple enough. Or so I thought. If you’ve never wandered through multiple floors of Macy’s looking for women’s undergarments while pretending you know where you’re going, I highly recommend the experience. Somehow, we escaped that labyrinth without becoming permanent residents. After a while, hunger set in, so we ducked into a random diner that was … fine. It wasn’t terrible. Let’s call it aggressively average. Our next objective was to find a bar. Unfortunately, nearly every place we visited had transformed into World Cup headquarters. We aren’t exactly soccer fanatics, but we found one that wasn’t overflowing, grabbed a couple of Coors Lights, and watched a little of Team USA’s loss to Belgium. Later, we stopped at a neighborhood bar called Walters, where the bartender confidently informed us that getting pizza after 11 p.m. in New York City was basically impossible. Conveniently, his buddy happened to be selling slices right next door. We bought one. Then, a few hours later, we stumbled across another pizza place selling better stuff for $1.50 long after this supposed pizza curfew. Congratulations, dude—you got us. We happily devoured our bargain slices back at the hotel before calling it a night. 

Tuesday

Tuesday started early because we had a lot of the city to explore. Once again, Facebook was serving as our unofficial travel guide, and one recommendation that kept coming up was The Trailer Park Lounge down in Chelsea. On the way there, we made an important stop for Lisa. Anyone who knows her knows she’s fascinated by the story of John F. Kennedy Jr. and Carolyn Bessette Kennedy, so naturally she wanted to visit C.O. Bigelow Apothecaries—the historic pharmacy where Carolyn reportedly shopped for headbands. More my style was the legendary Chelsea Hotel. Now there’s a building dripping with rock-and-roll history. Bob Dylan. Leonard Cohen. Janis Joplin. Sid and Nancy … just imagine the untold stories. We looked around. The hotel has certainly become much fancier following its renovation, and while it was beautiful inside, part of me couldn’t help imagining what it must have been like during its chaotic rock-and-roll years.

Another stop on Lisa’s wish list was the Mind of a Serial Killer exhibit. Yes, my wife is fascinated with serial killers, and I try not to overthink that. The exhibit featured crime scene evidence, personal belongings, investigative material, and enough creepy artifacts to make you double-check every stranger walking past you afterward. Needless to say, it was cool as heck. Finally, we arrived at Trailer Park Lounge. What a place. Picture a roadside trailer park exploding inside a Manhattan bar, and you’ve got the general idea. We met an incredibly fun bartender named L.A., admired a 26-year-old pregnant mannequin who somehow managed to chain-smoke cigarettes while apparently surviving on a steady diet of Pabst Blue Ribbon, and laughed our way through one of the most unique spots we’ve ever visited. We’ll be back. Shockingly, while we were enjoying ourselves, a nearby building partially collapsed just a short distance away. Thankfully, everyone was okay. We completely missed that excitement, probably for the best. Ultimately, it was time to head back, clean up, and prepare for the main event. We grabbed a few pre-concert drinks at a bar across from Madison Square Garden before joining thousands of excited fans streaming into one of the world’s most famous arenas.

Lisa had never been to Madison Square Garden before, so talk about doing your first visit right. That night, Bon Jovi opened the first of nine sold-out shows, a pretty spectacular launch for their Forever Tour. The significance wasn’t lost on anyone. After years away from touring because of Jon Bon Jovi’s serious vocal issues and lengthy recovery, there was genuine emotion in the building before the first song even started. He sounded remarkably good. No, he’s not twenty-five anymore, but then again, none of us are (well, unless you are). Twenty thousand fans gladly handled plenty of backing vocals anyway. Considering everything he’s battled through medically, his performance was impressive, heartfelt, and filled with gratitude, and you could tell he appreciated every single person in that arena. It wasn’t perfect. It didn’t need to be. It was authentic. And it was fun. The set balanced classic hits with newer material, giving longtime fans exactly what they came to hear while reminding everyone that the band still has something left in the tank. Drummer Tico Torres and the keyboardist with the hair that looks like Ramen Noodles are the only classic lineup members left besides Jon, but his “new” band lineup was still pretty great. Phil X handled the impossible task of replacing Richie Sambora on guitar. There were definitely moments when you couldn’t help but imagine how much bigger those harmonies and guitar parts would’ve sounded with Richie there. Maybe someday. 

After the show, we wandered around, doing some more bar hopping. We ended up in a spot called Malone’s. There we met a friendly gentleman who bought us a round. He was very generous. Also … very serial killer-ish. Perhaps we’d spent too much time at that exhibit earlier in the day, but the dude was giving us some major freaky vibes. We thanked him, finished our drinks, returned safely to the hotel, cracked open a couple more cold ones, and celebrated another successful day alive.

Wednesday

By Wednesday morning, we were definitely feeling the effects of walking what seemed like forty-seven miles over two days. And probably the effects of other things as well. The biggest victory? We actually woke up in time for checkout. Before heading home, we crossed the street to Pershing Square, our traditional Grand Central breakfast stop. Normally, this is where mimosas enter the story. This time it was straight juice, breakfast, and responsible adult behavior – at least for one morning. With some time to spare before our train, we stepped inside the New York Public Library. That deserved far more than the abbreviated visit we gave it, but even a quick walk-through reminded us why it’s one of the city’s great landmarks. From there, we wandered into Bryant Park, grabbed a seat and did one of New York’s greatest free activities: people-watching. Nothing too exciting, but there was also a robot lawn mower hard at work, and I don’t know why we found that so fascinating – but it was.

Overall, we were pleased. We got lost in Macy’s, visited a sex museum, explored the minds of serial killers, walked through rock-and-roll history, found our new favorite dive bar, ate late-night $1.50 pizza, and saw Bon Jovi play Madison Square Garden. Somehow, we also managed to avoid losing any belongings (which I am famous for) and getting arrested (which I was formerly famous for), or ending up in a fight over Phil Collins (which my wife is famous for). I’d call that a successful vacation. So thank you, New York. The Irwins had an absolute blast. We hope you’ll let us back in.