What is Slouching Towards Bethlehem, anyway? Seems archaic. I hope some get the reference.
If there's one thing about New York, it's that it's vain enough to have a sub-genre about itself. You know, the stereotypical "Leaving New York" essay. I'm pretty sure Didion was the one who started this trend back in 1967, when she realized that after 8 years the glow of the city went away. "Goodbye to all of that" didn't seem like an essay by someone who had given up on their hopes and dreams, or someone who had been let down by the city. It seemed like it was written by someone who had matured slightly from their younger selves, who's heart was entangled with someone else's, who couldn't themselves the same way that they saw themselves before in the ever-changing city that New York is.
“You see I was in a curious position in New York: it never occurred to me that I was living a real life there,”
This describes the experience of many. I've felt this way plenty of times. The onus of the city is to make you feel new, to make you experience whatever it is that you haven't felt, seen, heard, believed before. But, at the same time, it's just as easy to be present in the moment.
Three years doesn't seem much. But, for someone who hasn't lived outside of their hometown for more than a few months, three years is the next best, or already is, thing. Memories here that I've made will last a lifetime. And thank God I got half of the film I developed on print, also.
The city brings out the worst in you at times. Hawking at people at the bar for looking at your girlfriend the wrong way. The snake eyes for someone accidentally spilling their drink on you. The long and jaded sigh over a group of people 5 years younger than you who walk in like they own the place (why be jealous, anyway? I walked into Sullys, Sticky Rice, and Helen's like this for years), blocking people out who ask you for money, screaming indecencies while walking down 1st Ave., the list is, really, expansive. I could give you a list of about 50 things I've done wrong on any single given night from March 2020 up until now.
On the flip side, the city can also bring out the better side of people. The corny shit you see on TV about helping little old ladies cross the street is, more or less, true. But there are other human interactions that you see across other metropolitan areas that aren't so much unique to New York, like giving up your subway seat for a pregnant woman, shit like that. It's much easier to remember the bad, most definitely. What I can say is that I've had equal to greater things that are great happen to me here than the bad. I mean, worst thing that's happened is my catalytic converter getting stolen. Hoppers probably needed the cash more than me in the long run.
I could go on about how the coffee at Porto Rico in the West Village was my safe space if I was having a terrible day at my subpar civil service job in Lower Manhattan, or how post work beers at Off The Wagon or 212 Hisae made the 35-40 minute commute less strenuous. I could tell you how I've learned how to stand up for myself more, and made it so my voice is, at the very least, heard. I could tell you this place is one of the best to cut your teeth at, how run-ins with locals at the bar reinforce your reason for living here, how having a solid group of friends elevates your NYC tenure, or how the 3am deli sandwich has medical remedies that have yet to been posted on Mayo Clinic. I could say so, so many things, But why continue to blab about what this city has given to me? What have I given to it?
Well, first off, my taxes. That's annoying.
Other than that? I've given my best foot forward for most things here. My job, my significant other, my extended family, the typical, run-of-the-mill nonsense. But I also gave my best foot forward in believing that I had a small, insignificant slice of this city. That in however many years when someone asks me "what was it like living there?" that I can tell them about wandering through Central Park with my friends, or binging on $2 (now $3) beers at Carmelo's, feasting on the finest birria in all of Bushwick, or maybe the city in general, going to the U.N. building to get your covid vaccine (that shit was kind of lit, can't lie), and all of the other great times I've spent, mistakes I've made, the whole lot. I wouldn't change it for the world.
Now this BLOG post? This is no "Goodbye to All of That". Far from it. I didn't even learn about Joan Didion until about, like, 2 years ago. Granted, she was a pandemic find. A gem for that matter. And since reading that essay, I always knew there would be an expiration date on my time here. At the moment, at least. I've dreamt on what I would do if I chose to live here again, where I would live, all of that good stuff. But it's good to live in the moment, and not get too ahead of yourself. That's always been an issue of mine, but, with saying that, I've gotten better at it.
They say Washington is LA for ugly people. Luckily, I hate LA, and I'm far from ugly. I've already got that going for me. Well see if I end up on the Post for being an unnamed source or something like that. Until then, I'll be enjoying my last week in North Brooklyn, while letting the winds of change make their ways.
FIN
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