new york memories, etc

new york was never a place i wanted to visit. i know, i think i’m in the minority on that one. it just always seemed too big, noisy, dirty, and crime-riddled. it was all about the yellow cabs, muggings and rich women in outfits which cost more than my monthly income. i’d watch hill street blues or felicity and think “this is enough of new york for me, thanks”. i was happy going to boston or chicago, but new york city was never on my list.
last year, while researching airfare for my annual excursion to massachusetts, i discovered that i could fly via nyc and save a lot of money in the process. well, being poor and cheap, this appealed. i put upon the goodwill of my only friend in the city and he generously assented to be my host, guide and guardian during my brief to’s and from’s through JFK airport.
once i’d booked the flight and confirmed arrangements in and out of new york is when i started looking forward to the chance to see what nyc was really like. i have to admit, i didn’t see a lot (how much can you see from a cab, plane window or the express bus out of mid-town?), but what i did experience will last me for the rest of my life.
no, i didn’t tour the world trade center, it wasn’t even a consideration. the one landmark i did want to see was the chrysler building, there’s something about that art deco spire the touches my heart, but i didn’t manage to accomplish that. so, why am i writing this? because i needed to express to you the memory i just recalled while reading more accounts of the destruction in new york. i hadn’t even realized it until a moment ago, but i’ve seen those towers. coming across the bridge from queens into the heart of mid-town, in the back of that scary yellow cab whose safety-screen was so scratched up i couldn’t look straight ahead, the only way i could look was at the skyline of manhattan. i saw my chrysler building, i saw the empire states building, and i saw the twin towers of the world trade center.
maybe that is why, if i let my guard down for even a moment, i start to cry when i see yet another picture or read yet another account of the tragedy or its aftermath. maybe i left part of myself in new york, or i took a piece of new york with me when i left. a friend once told me that when you read a book you leave a part of your soul in it. i think it’s the same with every place you go and every one you meet. no matter the length or depth of contact, you’re indelibly tied to everything you touch.
i’ve touched new york and new york has touched me. that is why my heart breaks with each special report or breaking news item. yet, i’d have it no other way. my apathy used to frighten me. death and destruction rarely phased me. i’d shake my head and mutter some polite phrase of consolation then go on about my petty self-concerns. i hate that it’s taken loss of life and property of this magnitute to get me to finally feel something, but i’m grateful that i do.
this has no point, no insightful moral for you to ponder. this is me, on a thursday morning, letting all my thoughts slip out my fingers onto this screen you’re reading. thoughts about the first and last time i saw what is no more. thoughts about what it takes to finally care about my fellow man. thoughts about how, still, i cannot be angry about this attack, only sad and very, very scared.
that being said, i believe it’s time to stop the dwelling. my life hasn’t stopped, it’s just become quieter, as if it’s been wrapped in layers of cotton batting. my bad hair day doesn’t matter so much this week, but it will soon. it has to or i’ll go mad. i won’t forget, i can’t ever forget, but i need to think of other things now. getting the oil changed in my car or what i’m going to cook for dinner. the day-to-day minutiae of life in the west. treasuring the freedoms we have which allow such minor things to become so important to our peace of mind.
if i prayed, i’d be praying for calm heads and rational justice. just as all americans aren’t like timothy mcveigh, all islams aren’t like bin laden. we have to remember that and ensure that no more innocent people die. there are more than enough bodies in the smoldering rubble at this moment, don’t you think?