New york city, the city I profess to dislike, yet find myself in about once a year on average since I moved to the US.
The city is where I have met many of my true, long lost or long-term friends in the US or taken them with me for a visit. I do not like its much celebrated food other than the fact that there is always something to eat. Nor do its crowds or tourists do anything for me. I do like the anonymity it affords and the sense of security in large numbers (even if it is false). And I have had people being kind to me there, despite the bad rap the city and its people get. Whether it was to tell us which train to take on the subway, as the garbled announcement told us the one we wanted to take was either not running or not stopping, or didn’t really even exist; or a city bus driver who stopped in the middle of the road after seeing us running helter-skelter towards the bus stop he had already left behind. The former, a charming Italian gentleman, who had been taking the subway for 72 years in NYC (so he knew what the announcement meant). I remember looking back to say 'thank you' and the twinkle in his eyes was anything but distant or cold.
This is a city which still has its soul in the Central Park or in Soho and is finding itself anew in Brooklyn. I blame all the bad karma on the non-New Yorkers ... the ones that don’t make eye contact and don’t hesitate to take the coffee or cab you ordered. And please avoid Wall Street on all accounts. Likewise with the Statu(t)e of Liberty, which is only an eyesore — that place is home to a bunch of sores dedicating themselves to make their presence felt in the country.
MOMA houses my favorite painting by Van Gogh. My favorite art deco building — the Chrysler is also in the city. If I am the only one wearing colour in the city, heck, they can handle it! Even so, I have never been to a broadway show or an off-broadway theatre which have to be the city’s prime attraction (which just means I will likely be back again).
This year I was in the city again and just wanted to share some photos taken from my iPhone. My friend of 15 years (yes, we are that old now), was visiting and obviously had to be taken to the city of broken dreams.. or dreams, depending on who you are.
Despite my reservation, I am glad we went.
www.implicitself.wordpress.com