Armed Camp on Wall Street

NEW YORK, NY – Jan. 19, 2010 – “Do you know where is the New York Stock Exchange?” she asked in heavily accented English. The slim, attractive woman standing in the shadows on Wall Street, speaking furtively into a cell phone, was clearly Russian. I could spot her even before she spoke. I’m not sure how I knew but I did. And when I heard her speak, I was right.

“Right down there and make a left,” I told her.

We won’t have to worry about her causing any mayhem, though. This place is an armed camp! Back in my crazy days in the 70s, well beyond the statute of limitations, late one evening I scrawled some arcane graffiti on the polished metal door of the New York Stock Exchange.

“Who is John Galt?”

It was gone the next day. It’s a line from Ayn Rand’s famous book Atlas Shrugged which I was reading at the time. And the broad-tipped Magic Marker in my pocket cried out for expression.

But you won’t be doing that these days. Oh no! You can’t even TOUCH the door. Guards prevent your even walking down that side of the street. A metal spiked fence runs down the middle of Broad Street. And around the corner on Exchange Place, a large metal contraption prevents vehicular traffic. Reminds you of a World War II tank trap.

And elsewhere in the Financial District, in front of buildings along Wall Street, large metal obstacles dot the sidewalk, I suppose to stop terrorists.

And unruly smart alecs with their Magic Markers.

Drat!