new york city
...has been the topic on everyone's lips lately, at the bar or over weekend brunch.
Saturday night over two dirty martinis, I chronicled what I remember about NYC:
-8 hour car trips to visit my Grampa Rogers in Buffalo (Lancaster, actually). We listened to Winnie-the-Pooh stories and Garrison Keillor and fairy tales. As expected, I fought with my brother over car snacks, seat hogging, and the fact that he was generally annoying. Ok, this recurring memory has nothing to do with "the city" (we didn't go anywhere near it) but it illustrates that "New York" for many many years was actually a state in my mind. A big one, with too much road.
-my first trip with Heather (happy birthday) and her mom, a teacher, on a MCPS sponsored Broadway weekend. It was so cold that we left the hotel and my still-wet-hair froze. I saw RENT, a straight play, and a non-musical comedy starring some big shot actor... whose name escapes me.
-a post-high-school-graduation weekend trip with Heather, her friend ??, and Evan. I drove in my ever-trusted Pontiac Grand Am, which began to overheat as soon as we entered the city. On the way home, the trunk popped open as we drove (lost, of course) through busy streets looking for a bridge or a tunnel or something. There was lots of screaming, and Evan had to jump out and close it.
-freshman year of college with the Honors Humanities program. We saw RENT (again) and I
-January 2002, going up with Dan to visit some friends and family. We stayed with his friend Ben, and it was my first experience meeting people who *actually* lived in the city. The apartments, as a rule, were small and narrow and (to my mind) exceedingly "cool." We went to the Sept 11th site, which at the time was still clapboarded off and covered with homemade memorials. I remember sitting and drinking coffee with Dan while we waited with our tickets (a way to regulate traffic) for our turn to stand and stare. My hands were shaking. We drove home very late that night and _almost_ had enough cash to make it through the tolls without stopping (sadly, we were a dollar short and had to stop before the Baltimore tunnel).
In all scenarios, I left feeling in awe of and overwhelmed by the magnitude and buzz of the city. I remember the most recent trip the best, for obvious reasons and also because I was a visitor rather than a tourist. At the time, I realized that it is possible for someone like me to forge a life in such a city (millions have, after all), but who would ever want to? And why?
