New York, New York. The City that Never Sleeps. I need to go. Really, really.
New York to me is Gershwin. It’s Woody Allen. It’s jazz, theatre and fashion and everything chic. It’s intellectualism and old money.
How could one ever be bored there? How many movies are there where young lovers gaze at the giant Christmas tree at Rockefeller Centre? How many times has the Empire State Building been an extra in a movie? The Hudson River, and the Statue of Liberty. Central Park. Broadway. The UN. Times-freaking-SQUARE?
Remember Tom Hanks in “Big”, at FAO Schwartz? Peter Sellers in Central Park? “An Affair to Remember”? Fame?!?!
All these great, great moments. Tiny, grimy apartments. Clandestine meetings on fire escapes, during heat waves. Big yellow taxis. Crowds and honks and sirens all around, 24/7.
I think what it is, is that I’ve seen and read about New York so many times in fictional works, that my brain is pretty sure it’s a fictional place. It’s like wanting to go to Narnia or Middle Earth, sort of. Nice idea, but not going to happen. But this one CAN happen. Blowing my mind, a little.
So one day, I’ll go to New York. I will take a million pictures, unless my camera gets stolen.