one more glance
It’s easy to take for granted that which is right in front of us. People. Places. Things. Places, especially. As I box together and tape shut traces of my last three years here, I think about all that makes this city special. Humid subway stations in the summer. Freezing winter winds at every intersection. Blaring sirens and angry confrontations. Eight million people searching for beauty, for significance, and for a connection that at times may turn into $15 martinis on Saturday nights and headaches on Sunday mornings. And yet, we get back up, grab Sunday brunch with all-you-can-drink mimosas, and begin again with that same vigor. And that energy permeates through to everything that comes our way. Through the blackout, the mass-transit strike, and countless others. We learn to deal. And while we deal, we learn to make things extraordinary.
At the end of the day what makes the most lasting of impressions is not the good or the bad; it’s the intensity. They say New Yorkers are intense. Well, we have a right to be.
Goodbye, New York. I’ll see you in a blink.