Confession. My relationship with New York City is fast becoming a love hate relationship. As much as I enjoy its pleasures - easy access to the Met Museum, concerts, and other culture palaces, and of course having Central Park at my doorstep for walking Sam the Lab, the noise level has risen to an alarming degree and that long ago pleasure of simply walking down a city street and people watching has given way to dodging bicycles and scooters, avoiding people whose heads are buried in their cellphones, and the kind of congestion that one used to associate with some exotic city that was only to be viewed from a tour bus. It has even forced me into writing run on sentences - something Miss OConner in the fifth grade of PS 26 would have slapped my knuckles for having done. Well, its not so exotic here, smell of exhaust fumes rather than rare spices, and if you live in the city full-time, as I do, you come to hate the building boom which only means more hideous new sky-scratchers, more people (this time the super-rich) staring into their cellphones as they enter their limos that flood the city. The wonderful mix that was NYC for much of my life is harder to find, except in tourists from all over but their heads are buried in maps or taking snapshots with their iPhones. Enough playing grumpy old man. I know I will never leave it in my lifetime, born here and although I have no intention of dying, ever, if that happens it will be here. Now, off to rehearsal where I can focus on something I love other than my granddaughters, my pets, and the Frick- playing theater.
Posted on: Sat, 15 Nov 2014 12:22:30 +0000
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