Spoiler Warning:
Some sections below discuss The Outsiders and Harry Potter and the Cursed Child and may include spoilers. If you’re spoiler-averse, feel free to skip those sections and jump to the lights, landmarks, and general city mayhem.
The Train Ride In: Metro North Cares?
The train ride in was terrible. I had called Metro-North Cares ahead of time to arrange accessibility assistance. They took all my information, assured me everything was noted, and then… nothing. When the train arrived, no one was looking for me. No bridge plate. No assistance. And then the train left.
I waited twenty minutes for the next one, already behind a schedule that had barely any wiggle room to begin with. When it arrived, I tried to bulldoze my way on anyway. My walker’s wheel got caught in the gap. I fell. This was the entire reason I had called for help in the first place.
Eventually, people stepped in to help and I got onboard. The conductors were genuinely kind, checking on me throughout the ride and making sure I got off safely at Grand Central. Unfortunately, that’s where the next obstacle appeared. No cabs anywhere. Uber wanted over $100 to get to the hotel. Lyft came in around $30, which at that point felt like a gift from the transit gods.
It wasn’t how the trip was supposed to start. It was stressful, painful, and exhausting. But somehow, the weekend kept going anyway.
The Outsiders
I arrived at the theater just as the doors were opening, adrenaline still buzzing from the journey. Somewhere between grabbing my scooter and navigating Times Square, I ran over my first pedestrian of the weekend. A true New York milestone.
The theater staff, however, were phenomenal. Kind, calm, and genuinely helpful. I got to my seat and finally exhaled.
I’d seen warnings that rows A and B might get hit with pieces of tire during the show. I was in row D, so I assumed I was safe. I was not.
The show was incredible. Emotional, gritty, and beautifully staged. The rumble choreography was next-level stunning. Violent, precise, and hypnotic in a way that made it impossible to look away. At the end, Darry seemed completely unable to stop crying, continuing to cry through the final scenes and even into the curtain call.
I had just reread the book and watched the movie a few weeks before the trip to see if Tulsa was mentioned. It isn’t. But the show makes it clear where we are, opening with a song titled “Tulsa ’67.” During intermission, I noticed more pieces of tire scattered on me. Back at the hotel later, I realized my Playbill had caught one too. Tiny black souvenirs. Proof that I was closer to the action than I ever expected.
Despite everything, I loved it. Maybe because of everything.
The Hotel Timeshare Presentation
Nothing snaps you back to earth faster than a hotel timeshare presentation. The contrast between Broadway magic and aggressively cheerful sales tactics was… jarring. There were promises, pressure, and the sense that time itself was being siphoned away. It was the least festive part of the weekend, but at least it came with the satisfaction of surviving it. All I lost was 2 hours of my time and I am the proud new owner of – nothing.
The MLB Flagship Store
Enter: baseball peace. Or so I had hoped. The MLB Flagship store was wall-to-wall jerseys and merch. Although, there was a familiar voice echoing throughout the store when we entered. Unfortunately our timing was off and they were playing Pete Alonso’s (my favorite not-so-current-anymore Met) press conference as he joined the Baltimore Orioles. We got the staff to stamp my baseball Pass-Port and got out of there.
Radio City Music Hall: Behind the Scenes
Seeing Radio City from behind the scenes was a genuine highlight. The history, the hidden spaces, the stories woven into the walls – and us almost joining them in the walls via a too small elevator… Getting to find out how the stage worked and then seeing it all in motion during the show later brought a whole new appreciation to the show and we got to end the tour by meeting a Rockette!
The Rockettes: Precision and Sparkle
The Rockettes are precision in human form. Every kick lands at the exact same height, every line snaps into place, and every transition happens like clockwork. It’s festive, yes, but it’s also physically demanding in a way that’s easy to underestimate until you see it live. This isn’t just dancing. It’s endurance, control, and absolute trust in the people next to you.
One of the most meaningful moments for me was seeing that one of the Rockettes is physically disabled. Representation like that matters, especially in a show that has historically been viewed as rigid and traditional. Watching her perform alongside the rest of the line wasn’t inspirational in a patronizing way. It was powerful in a this is what inclusion actually looks like way.
And yes, there are still live animals. Including camels. I had seen them in the show 20 years ago and honestly wasn’t sure they’d still be included because of changing laws and standards. But there they were, calmly strolling across the stage, grounding the spectacle in something unexpectedly real. It felt like a bridge between the Christmases I remembered and the one I was experiencing now.
By this point in the weekend, with everything going wrong, we had started joking that Taylor Swift would probably show up and sit next to us. (For the record, I am not a fan.) Near the end of the show, a woman behind us suddenly yelled, “It’s Taylor Swift!”
It was not Taylor Swift.
It was just a performer in a sparkly dress.
But for one brief, chaotic moment, it felt extremely on-brand for how the weekend had been going.
And then there were the frost fairies. They flew through the audience, shimmering and ethereal. I don’t know how they fly, but I desperately want to. They looked so real that part of me was convinced they were somehow defying physics purely through Christmas magic. If there’s a behind-the-scenes explanation, I want it. Immediately.
The whole experience felt like controlled chaos wrapped in tradition. Familiar, surprising, and just strange enough to remind you why it’s iconic.
Rockefeller Center at 6am & Fifth Avenue Before Sunrise
New York at 6am is a completely different city. Rockefeller Center was quiet, glowing, and almost peaceful. Fifth Avenue before sunrise felt like sneaking into a postcard before anyone else arrived. The lights shimmered, the air was crisp, and for a brief moment, the city felt calm. We had all of the Saks 5th Avenue decorated windows to ourselves and while we missed the light show, there are approximately 39473923 videos of it online for us to watch in the cozy comfort of our home and not squished in a sea full of tourists.
The Hotel Elevator: A Villain Origin Story
The elevator deserves its own section because it deserves accountability. Only 1 running at a time. Slow. Overcrowded. Occasionally unavailable. Waiting for it became a recurring subplot of the weekend. At one point, it felt easier to question life choices than to reach the correct floor. [Honorable mention to the too small elevators at Radio City and The Museum of Broadway, they get a partial pass because they are old buildings and another honorable mention to the elevator in the box office at cursed child that was just completely out of order that sent us around the block instead.]
The Museum of Broadway: A Love Letter
The Museum of Broadway felt like stepping inside a love letter written by theater people, for theater people. Costumes, sets, props, and stories from decades of productions surrounded you at every turn, each one quietly whispering about the thousands of performances that came before.
What I loved most was how immersive it felt. This wasn’t just a collection of artifacts behind glass, it was an experience designed to make you feel the history. Standing in front of iconic costumes and seeing how Broadway has evolved over time made everything feel interconnected. Every show, every revival, every risk taken on a stage builds on what came before it.
If you love Broadway even a little, this place will make your heart grow three sizes. (But find discounted tickets if you can!)
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child
I had been scaling back significantly on all things Harry Potter. That decision wasn’t accidental, and it wasn’t casual. So I don’t say this lightly when I admit that the only reason I went to see Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was because Tom Felton was playing Draco Malfoy.
That was it. That was the hook.
Seeing him step back into that role carried a strange emotional weight. Familiar, yes, but also layered with time and distance. Draco as an adult felt different. Softer around the edges. Still complicated, still carrying history, but shaped by it rather than defined by it. Tom Felton brought a quiet gravity to the role that made it feel earned rather than nostalgic.
And then there was Scorpius.
I did not expect to fall in love with Scorpius Malfoy, and yet here we are. He is awkward, kind, painfully sincere, and emotionally open in a way that makes him impossible not to root for. He’s the heart of the story in many ways, and by the end, I was fully invested in his happiness and wellbeing.
Which raises the uncomfortable but unavoidable question:
Why do I love the Malfoys so much?
The production itself was stunning. The stage magic, the illusions, the transitions. It’s a reminder that live theater can do things that no screen ever truly can. The cast was phenomenal, the pacing tight, and the audience reactions made the experience feel communal in a way that’s increasingly rare. Gasps, laughter, collective moments of recognition.
Footnote: J.K. Rowling is a terrible human being. Acknowledging that doesn’t erase the work of the hundreds of performers, crew members, and creatives who bring this show to life night after night. Supporting them is not an endorsement of her views. Both truths can coexist, and it’s important to say that out loud.
If you’re struggling with how to reconcile enjoying parts of this world while rejecting the harm she causes, one way to hold that tension is to redirect support. Organizations like Trans Lifeline and The Trevor Project do life-saving work for trans and LGBTQ+ youth and adults, providing crisis support, resources, and community when it’s needed most. Supporting them is a concrete way to stand with the people Rowling continues to hurt, and to make sure your love of stories never outweighs your care for real people.
Stories matter. But people matter more.
Grand Central is Closed?
When leaving the hotel (after waiting for 3 elevators) the doorman told me Grand Central was “closed” and I would need to walk 2 blocks to get there – in the snow. Which of course came Sunday morning when I needed to leave and not Saturday night as it was supposed to start on our walk/roll home from Cursed Child (when instead it was freezing rain in my eye the whole time). But thanks to an amazing cabbie I got right to the door of Grand Central which was indeed not closed and made it home – with a view of some absolutely gorgeous snow covered trees on the way.
The Takeaway
New York in December is a study in contrasts: breathtaking and exhausting, magical and maddening, perfectly lit and slightly broken. The bad moments didn’t cancel out the good; they just made the good feel earned. And somehow, despite everything, it all worked.
Because that’s New York. ✨
Katie 
