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It's Not a Cure, Just a Choice
A lot of people love to complain about New York. A lot of New Yorkers love to complain about it too, probably more than anyone else. Myself included. I love to complain about how much my rent is, or the construction that goes on outside my window starting at 8am every day, and I love to complain about how I'm actually used to it now. New Yorkers love to complain about the weather; in the Winter it's so cold, the Summer is too hot. Spring brings allergies and Fall doesn't last long enough. Yet if you ask them why they live in this city on the east coast, one of the first things they will say is that they love seasons and who would want to live in a city where the weather doesn't change? Please. Often I check craig's list for fun. I'm not planning on moving but if I were, where would I go and how much would it cost? In Nashville I could get 3 bedroom for $800 a month and in Lousiville I could live in a cute little cabin, L shaped couch and eyelet curtains all come with. I daydream about my going away party and what I would wear and how I would promise to write everyone "not just emails but 'real' letters." But eventually I'm gone so long and I lose touch with these people. And then it becomes a real kick to contact them, 30 years down the line. Only a few will visit me in my country house where I'll make sure they have their own bedroom. We'll bake pies together and when they leave, I'll go back to typing in my study in the attic. And as I look out the "O" shaped window on the attic wall I'll lean back, arms folded behind my head, and think about how great my life is. SIKE. But honestly, I can understand why some people, even when they claim to hate it here, still don't leave. It's because they are afraid of admitting defeat. No matter what, they don't want the city to win. But as we all know, some people are just not meant to live and love New York. If you can't stand the subway, no matter how hot it gets down there, then you should leave. If you hate being harassed or you wave to people who don't wave back, this is probably not the place for you. The myth is that this is the city where your dreams come true and anything can happen if you work hard enough and blah blah blah but I think we all know by now that that's just not true. I know Sex in the City is gay and everything, but I remember once Carrie Bradshaw described New York as being a character in itself. In a way I agree, but a character to me implies a degree of fiction, the perfect balance of sass and crass. A person so carefully formulated that you know they are for sure, a character. New York has character of course, but there is something about it that is so much stranger than fiction, I doubt anyone could have ever made it up. New York is home to both The Rich and the Retarded, and both have equal right to call it home. Assholes with button down shirts and khakis stand in front of my gate and block me from getting inside on purpose, while the guy who sells fruit on 1st ave. tells me he likes my heart shaped sunglasses. I'm not trying to get gay with romantisizing New York because at the end of the day it's not a character or a person or a lifestyle or the best place in the whole wide world. At the end of the day it's just a city. Just a Place To Live-an empty slot in a game of MASH.
I complain about New York, but will defend it to its death. I don't cry over 911 and I don't wear I Heart New York t shirts and I don't subscribe to The New Yorker and I don't have picnics at Central Park. I love Pizza but I don't give a shit to talk about it, same with the Mets and Woody Allen and Coney Island. When the Thanksgiving parade happens I sleep through it. I love all these things, but it's not really part of my New York. My New York is the only bodega on 1st ave that sells my favorite Swiss yogurt. It's having Time Warner cable and DVR instead of TiVo. It's my secret dates to Broadway. walking through the hellish crowds, only because it reminds me of a mall, and malls remind me of home. It's being really siked about someone's apartment that has outdoor space, and then never using it because you realize that outdoor space in New York is just a confined slab of boring. In my New York I want to watch people walk by. I want to say hi to them. And make fun of them. Simultaneously.I do think that one day I will leave here, but I hope when that happens it will not be out of spite or anger or defeat or failure or any of those reasons that I thought I would be cured of when I came here in the first place. I do love New York and yes it's partly because I'm still young enough to enjoy it and also because I feel comfortable now being part of the machine that works if you work it. As soon as I start longing for quarries and mountain tops, I immediatly realize what I'd be giving up if I had them. I'm not bothered by the things that bother non New Yorkers, but only by New Yorkers who are bothered by New York. But what would New York be like without them? I'm one of The Retarded I guess. I love them too.
6:36 p.m. - 2006-09-07
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history - mystery
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