It's Too Late for Me, Save Yourselves
I first consciously felt like a New Yorker when my reaction to a clump of innocent tourists loitering on a Manhattan sidewalk was a barely suppressed exclamation of, "Move it you needlessly plodding herd. Yes the buildings are tall. Yes the cabbies really do drive like that. Yes there are lots of people here AND YOUR PHOTO OPPORTUNITY IS IMPEDING ALL OF US. NOW MOVE!" Charity has never been among my stronger traits. I'm working on it.
Slightly less salvation impeding was my latest New Yorker moment, which occurred Friday evening on my way to the train. This was served up as the first song on my randomized music list. (Incidentally, that was followed by Depeche Mode's Enjoy the Silence, Cowboy Junkies' Dreaming My Dreams with You, Sting's Fortress Around Your Heart, and U2's Running to Stand Still. It was like an excerpt from the soundtrack to the yet-to-be-produced 1980s retrospective film, Daniel's Melancholy Stroll to Grand Central.). I don't recall when I first heard Pretty Fly for a Rabbi, but I'm certain that only the most obvious Jewish cultural references made sense to my western-US Mormon mind. I just enjoyed the song, in part because my favorite uncle could easily pass for Weird Al. This time, I realized halfway through that I understood all the common Yiddish. Somehow, working in Salt Lake City never led to such important cultural epiphanies.
Is there any chance I'd be able to enjoy living in the mountain west again if that became necessary?
5 Comments:
The mountain west? What am I? chopped liver? You'll have to schlep some other girl out there. Oy vey...
It may take some work, you'll have to start with baby steps.
If you're a sports fan, start watching/cheering for west coast teams (NBA All-Star game is coming up, root for the West).
Step two is walk around your house in shorts and a tee shirt (if you really want to go the extra mile add flip flops and sunglasses -on your head-).
Step three is a bit tough, start saying hello to random people, you might even go so far as to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger.
If you're successful, there just may be hope.
I must say Daniel that not having to use the subway in the summer is a breath of fresh air.
Daniel doesn't use the subway.
But Bubba's step 3 is critical. Just this summer while we were vacationing in Myrtle Beach, a complete stranger started speaking to me (in a kind and friendly manner) in a mini-mart, and it took me several minutes to get over the feeling of "why are you talking to me, and nicely at that?"
The shorts and tee shirt also might be hard -- at least for now, as I think the projected high for Friday is 10 degrees.
I also think a move west would necessitate coming to terms with chain restaurants and not thinking that there must be some underlying reason why you are getting good customer service when you're at the checkout of any store.
Sorry, I forgot that Daniel works in Midtown, mere steps from GC.
I refuse to acknowledge the existence of chain restaurants.
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