Now, we’re all ready for winter to be over. Lately, however, as the wind stings my face when I take my dog around the block at 3 a.m. – begging her to go, if only to feel the warmth inside the doggie bag defrost my numb fingers – I try to remember that moment in June when I’ll be equally miserable in a much different way.

I even made up a song about it, and it goes a little something like this:

“Lady Poppins’ (Least) Favorite Things”

Ice on the sidewalks and flu in our bodies,
Winds from the river that chill our Hot Toddies,
Taxis that splatter and swerve right on by,
Winter’s not over, I say with a sigh.

Mittens gone missing, snot dribbling from noses,
Snow dusting everything, even the roses,
All the bottoms of my pants with white residue,
Five dollar coat checks that used to be two.

When the snow melts, and there’s dog poop
Under every last pile.
I try to remember that summery hell,
And then I feel warm and smile.

Smells from hot garbage and heat from the sewers,
ACs that drip as you yell at the movers,
Everything’s harder to do when you’re hot,
Did you think that’s a complement – sorry it’s not.

When the wind whips, when your hat lands,
In a puddle of sludge,
I try to remember June’s sweaty disgust,
When layers can’t hide my pudge.

Sweat on my shoulders and under my hair,
Sweat dripping down my back, way down to there,
Tugging on shorts as they ride up my thigh,
Summer I hate you so much I could cry.

When the snow melts, and there’s dog poop
Under every last pile.
I simply remember that summery hell,
And then I feel warm and smile.

How Seasonal Affective Disorder could put a damper on the holiday spirit

Like the planets orbit the sun, our lives spin around the seasons. These subdivisions of the year do more than signal us when it’s time to whip out our Mackage coats and begin fireside chats with friends over which artist sings the best “Baby It’s Cold” rendition. They inform us that time is passing and events are moving forward, as is the natural order of things. As New Yorkers, we have an internal hourglass that marks the passing of time until the sand has run out, signaling our earmuffs and legwarmers that winter has arrived! Not one to be late to the party, winter arrives on cue and sashays down Sullivan Street in all her glory while dusting off her snowy skin and casting an opalescent sheen over downtown’s cobblestone streets and awnings.

The red cups brimming with spices and peppermint have returned to ye faithful Starbucks, Broadway has become the mecca for ambling tourists hiding behind maps in search of NYC tchotchkes, and Christmas-tree vendors pepper the once-subdued streets from Nolita to Soho. It’s hard to imagine a downtown without a winter, just as it would be impossible to imagine the harbor without the Statue of Liberty. But for some, winter doesn’t evoke the same jubilation, and getting through the season can feel like navigating a dark labyrinth of gloom and despair.

Those severely impacted by winter’s shorter days and long frigid nights might be at risk for Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). Recognized by the Diagnostic Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders 4th Edition (DSM-IV), SAD is described as a subtype of a major depressive episode. During winter’s reign, our brains produce increased levels of the sleep-inducing hormone melatonin. For those affected by SAD, one theory is that a biochemical imbalance of melatonin could lead to a shift in one’s internal hourglass, causing unhealthy behaviors that require medical intervention.

Typical symptoms of SAD include depressed mood, lethargy, lack of interest in activities, social withdrawal and a craving for sweets and carbohydrates. Those affected also spend inordinate amounts of time sleeping and have difficulty leaving their beds. As a result of weight gain and decreased interest in sex and physical contact, SAD sufferers also experience feelings of misery, shame, hopelessness and loss of self-esteem. These symptoms usually occur like clockwork beginning in November or December, peaking during January and February, and dissipating by March or April, depending on how quickly sunlight returns from hibernation. Though anyone can suffer from SAD, an overwhelming majority are young adults and women.

The key to diagnosing SAD is a recurrence of these deleterious symptoms during two successive winters followed by a routine remission in the spring. And while those who suffer from SAD may experience these symptoms at an extreme, there might be a greater number of people at risk for a milder assortment of SAD symptoms categorized as the “winter blues.” For the less-extreme blues, individuals might experience the decreased energy, increased appetite and feelings of sleepiness without feelings of depression and anxiety.

A season that should be welcomed with Bryant Park ice-skating arms thus becomes a dismal march through gray days, but there is some relief. Clinicians and those who have previously been affected by SAD now know when to expect the onset, how long it will last and how to treat it head-on. Special lamps are just one method that has proven helpful. And for downtowners in need of a quick Vitamin D pick-me-up, I suggest long runs along the glistening Hudson River or an idyllic Washington Square Park walk. Though anyone in cold northern cities can feel winter’s burn, downtown New Yorkers are lucky in that we’re surrounded by environmental therapy. Here’s to a healthy and happy winter for all.

Ben Krull is a lawyer and essayist who lives on the Upper East Side.

Arguably one of the oldest continuously made alcoholic beverages, port is one of my faves for a number of reasons. Aside from being delicious, it is affordable. Because a bottle of port isn’t meant to be drunk in one sitting, even among a group of friends, it is a drink that lasts for a while. It stands to reason, then, that a $20 bottle of aged Tawny is well worth the cash, since it can be enjoyed for an extended period of time. Even a splurge like a bottle of 1978 vintage port (which was an amazing year) is a bargain at less than $300, compared to a good year of Bordeaux or a Burgundy, which can easily run into the thousands.

Another positive attribute is port’s durability. Port is fortified (thus making it a “fortified wine”) by adding brandy to grape juice that is only partially fermented. This does two things: it raises the alcohol content and stops the fermentation. Brandy is added until the alcohol content is higher than 17 percent. At this point, the yeast cells are unable to continue converting sugars into alcohol, and the sugar that remains is what gives port its trademark sweetness. Since sugar and alcohol are both natural preservatives, most ports are drinkable for a month or more after opening. Granted, everything has a shelf life, but with port you have much more leeway.

If you are new to drinking port, you might want to start with something on the younger end of the spectrum, like a ruby port. Taylor Fladgate Ruby Port ($11.99 @ PJ Wine, 4898 Broadway betw. 204th and 207th streets, 212-567-5500) is typical of this style, which is aged for only two or three years, and is the lightest of all red ports. There are flavors of currants and raisins, along with orange peel, ginger and allspice. This is a delicious way to end a meal by itself, or a great pairing with roast duck breast.

For something heavier and warmer, try an aged tawny port. The Fonseca 10 Year Old Tawny Port ($32.99 @ 67 Wines, 179 Columbus Ave. @ 68th Street, 212-724-6767) is a stellar example of this style. Tawny ports are left to age in oak casks for much longer, allowing the tannins to soften and the port to become mellower. The color lightens and the flavors are reminiscent of caramel, figs, brown sugar and molasses. This is an indulgent treat, perfect for pairing with a pungent hunk of Roquefort blue cheese.

Vintage port has a steep price tag, and when released it is not meant to be drunk right away. But if you want the indulgence of a vintage port, you’re still covered. Late bottled vintage port has been aged, bottled and is ready to open and enjoy immediately. It’s also quite a bit less expensive. The Quinta do Noval LBV 2003 ($18.39 @ Cabrini Wines, 831 W. 181st St. @ Cabrini Boulevard, 212-568-3226) fits the bill perfectly without breaking the bank. Darker, more tannic and muscular, this port will remind you of a cross between an aged tawny and a full-bodied Claret.

Take your pick. I’m sure you’ll find that there is something here to warm you on a cold winter night no matter what your taste in dessert wine dictates.

–
josh@pennilessepicure.com

It’s the dead of winter, and the dead of night. He’s thousands of miles from his Swedish home, selling Christmas trees on the Upper East Side. He works every night of the week, from 10 p.m. to 10 a.m.

“Yeah, it gets lonely,” he said.

There’s not much client interaction on the night shift; mostly he’s just guarding the trees. At least the neighbors are friendly. They dearly want to buy him coffee. For Thanksgiving, he got a meal’s worth of leftovers. And last year there was cheesecake.

Joel makes wreaths while waiting for late night customers on the East Side. Photo by Andrew Schwartz

In New York City, nothing hints at Christmas—not Black Friday sales, not even the incessant carols—like the rich, piney smell of a Douglas fir on your street corner. The city’s tree industry is mostly controlled by New Yorkers, but it’s the workforce that captures hearts, minds and a whole lot of food. They hail from Europe, the U.S. and, most notably, French Canada. In a city that claims to never sleep, these rugged individuals seem to be the only ones actually still awake. Sub-culture by day, sub-zero by night.

The radio is tuned to 101.9 FM.

“It’s the RXP. New York Rock Experience,” Joel said, the station identification by now drilled into his head. “I love that it’s not Christmas music.”

Joel was a medic in the Swedish army, and he plans to study medicine in school. But he’s not done traveling yet. With the money he saves this month, he’s heading off to East Africa, and will journey from Zanzibar down to Capetown.

Fredrik, another Swedish tree-seller who works the night shift on Columbus Avenue and West 90th Street, has found time for sightseeing while in the city, hitting the Empire State Building and New York Public Library.

“I have been waiting to do this a long time, and now I got the opportunity,” he said, cupping his hands for heat.

His girlfriend, also from Sweden, is
doing a one-year stint as an au pair on Long Island.

Food options abound for Fredrik. There’s a Domino’s Pizza down the block, and a 24-hour grocery store. Doughnuts and bagels are real American treats.

“Oh, and Starbucks. I love Starbucks,” he added

A local resident, Nancy, brings him coffee and food almost every night.

Shelter for the coldest days. Photo by Andrew Schwartz

“She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met,” he said.

The Swedes pay their own way to the U.S., but the rent here is mostly covered by the boss—for whatever that’s worth. In one case, four day-timers and two night-shifters are tucked into a small studio on the East Side.

Their salary is paid in a lump sum at the end of the month, but the amount is not pre-determined. Estimates for night-shifters range from about $1,500 to $2,500 for the whole month.

“First off, when I get my paycheck, I’m going to get a whole new wardrobe. Because the clothes here are really cheap compared to Sweden,” Fredrik said.

“You get a lot of lamb, steaks, everything. It’s cold, that’s the only problem,” said Raphael, a German windsurfing teacher who traveled through Baja California on his way to New York from the Dominican Republic.

“Maybe next year we’ll bring a microwave. One guy on Broadway has a microwave in his shelter.”

Raphael is charmed by New Yorkers.

“This experience of people bringing you food,” he said. “In Germany we would never have that.”

He’s living with his girlfriend—and windsurfing equipment and three surfboards—in a van on West 97th Street. It’s parked next to the wood-and-tarp shelter that Raphael built out of an old futon.

“In New York City, there is so much furniture in the garbage,” he said. “We have to do it all as low-budget as possible.”

His girlfriend, who sells the trees by day, has more luck meeting good Samaritans. She even showers in the home of a local family.

“For me, in the night shift, it’s a little different,” Raphael said. “Because the only people I know are on drugs mainly, or people going home from a party.”

The doorman in a nearby building gives them access to a bathroom. Or it’s a Rite Aid down the block. “We’ve got, for emergencies, our portable toilet in the van.”

Raphael studied philosophy, education and psychology back in Germany. The philosopher most likely to sell Christmas trees in the middle of the night, he ventures, is probably David Hume. “The guy was always trying to
experiment with the world.”

Ultimately he’d like to settle in Canada, where his girlfriend is from. “I’m too intelligent to expect that I’m
going to go traveling for my life.”

He’s not exactly sure why so many Canadians come down to sell trees in New York. “Maybe because they’re more weather-resistant. That’s what makes the job tough.”

He’s listening to some jazz on 88.3 FM, though during the day 106.7 Lite FM is the station of choice because “they play non-stop Christmas music.” Still, he’s not tired of the music. He’s not tired of the holiday either.

“For me, when I sell a tree to a family, and you have the kids there, it’s amazing. I love it.”

With the exception of some public parks, for which the city auctions off permits, most of the Christmas tree operations are on city sidewalks, and only require consent from the property-owner fronting the sidewalk.

That permission often comes at a price, and stores are sometimes reluctant to allow anything that will obstruct their signage.

But even while new space is hard to find, the Christmas tree industry has increasingly flooded the New York market with new product lines and new marketing tags.

The sheared balsam comes “from Nova Scotia’s most exotic forests,” reads the SoHo Trees Website. The grand fir, “offers unique, ultra-wide silver tipped needles and incredible citrus fruit aromas.”

Adam from Serbia pulls the late shift on Broadway and West 72nd Street. Photo by Andrew Schwartz

Other well-known conifers are Douglas firs from the Pacific Northwest and Fraser firs from North Carolina.

Greg Walsh, who owns Greg’s Quality Christmas Trees, says the balsams dominated the industry two decades ago. The Douglas and Frasers would later secure a bigger market share.

But there’s momentum behind the noble firs, perhaps the richest looking trees, with branches that can take on the heaviest ornaments. A big noble planting boom on the West Coast is expected to drive down prices in coming years.

Walsh has been selling trees in New York for a quarter-century. This year, for the first time, he equipped his locations with live-in trailers. The trailers are by no means the lap of luxury, but don’t tell that to the sellers.

“I got some guy with a full couch and flat screen in Queens,” he said. “It’s a family thing. And the mother’s helping him out.”

Walsh says he employs people from as far away as Arizona and Alaska. One local seller will start work on Wall Street in January, but needs some money in the meantime.

Two of his sellers, from the Niagara Falls area, have turned their trailer into a kind of vegetarian resort. “They’re like hippies living on kasha,” he said. “They call it urban camping. They’re having a ball.”

“They’ve got mounds of vegetables. They’re cooking beans and stew. They’re inviting people over for dinner in the trailer… and they make lovely dinners.”

Though not everyone’s taking advantage. For sellers who commute to their site, rather than live in the trailer full-time, “it just becomes a grind,” Walsh said.

He pokes fun at one of his more undomesticated sales teams in Manhattan: “They’re doing nothing. They’re just pathetic. No coffee maker, nothing.”

Pete Lance splits the night shift at an East Side tree stand, in a frat-bar-infused corridor of Second Avenue. He says the alcohol can be good for sales.

“Sometimes somebody comes stumbling out of Rathbones and they’re feeling pretty jolly,” he said, pointing to the popular restaurant pub.

He’s listening to Lite FM, as the station’s overwhelmingly festive playlist is good for business. The tree stand is crowned with a giant, illuminated elf. The neighbors, he said, don’t complain. “Everybody in the immediate area has been nothing but nice to us.”

On the snack front, he’s received cookies, cupcakes and hot chocolate.

During the non-winter months, Lance works as a commercial scallop fisherman based out of Cape May, N.J. Selling trees, he says, makes sense in winter.

“It kind of translates well to commercial fishing because it’s a lot of odd hours,” he said. “Long and odd hours. Nothing I’m not used to like staying up all night.”

He’s been staying in a nearby apartment to avoid the long commute back to South Jersey.

“I’m actually mostly here for fun. Any excuse to come to the city,” he said. “This was just a perfect reason to come spend a month in New York and be here and have that experience.”

* Some sellers requested that we not print their last names.