Meditating on New York Life

Sitting down to write this I am brought to a place of my mind that reaches back to far more famed New Yorkers. I think of the many novelists, essayists, filmmakers, and musicians that have made New York their homes, their muses, their lovers. I think of EB White, I remember Spike Lee, I think of Ryan Adams and the the love that so many have expressed for New York. And, as I recede into my mind I contemplate the love-hate relationship that so many of these creators expressed in their relationship to this teeming metropolitan world that is New York, and come to one resolution—I understand them.

Today, I write this because I resolutely have determined to leave New York. The noise, the congestion, the inflation, the abrasiveness are all things that I will not miss when I board the plane saying goodbye to a city that I have called my home for these last four years. A city who has presented me the opportunity to pursue higher education, and a city in which I met the love of my life. A city that allowed me to realize that I am an adult, that I can be ultimately successful on my own. I know the well-worn adage expressed so eloquently by Hoboken’s favored son, Frank Sinatra—“If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere” rings true to my ears. I have made it here, and I will leave confident in the fact that I can, in fact, make it anywhere that I choose to make my home.

It was in 2005 that I landed at JFK international airport—no apartment, one friend, precious little money; love of my family I left at home, and two bags containing all that I would own in my new life. It is from here that I staked my claim to independence, manhood, and my measure of success. It was in this New World capital city that I learned, worked, and grew. I expanded my responsibilities as a citizen, as a scholar, and as a romantic partner. So when I say adieu to NYC, secure in the knowledge I won’t return to live, I’ll think on the fact that next when I return it will be only to breathe in the intoxicating romance that makes the illusion of living in this city the gilded dream that it is—one that only a visitor can truly enjoy, it will be bittersweet.

For all the stress and strain of everyday life that comes with (a secondary tax) the citizenship, my life has been changed so indelibly by New Amsterdam that it will be with a somber yet hopeful demeanor with which I leave the city. Sad, yet relieved to close a chapter of my life. Extremely optimistic for the future knowing full well how my New York life has forged me a type of unconquerable armor to ward me and my ambitions on my new life path(s). I suppose I can take from Ryan Adams and say what I think so many ex-New Yorkers feel as they see the peaks of the American empire dissipate in their rear view—I’ll still love you New York.

Chivalry Is Not Dead in NYC

My commute home began as usual — yet another mundane hour-long trek up to Inwood. After stopping at the grocery and paying way too much for ingredients needed to prepare a healthy meal, I boarded the “A” train with my hands filled with two grocery bags, a purse, and a tote bag. No seats were available to my dismay and I usually don’t participate in commuter musical chairs/seat wars. Yes, if a seat is available I’ll take it. But I’m not about to run an elderly woman down, in an effort to rest my bum.

So I stood gripping the handrail while tuning out my fellow commuters with my MP3 player. While standing I noticed a tall black male seated directly in front of me, about five feet away. He sported gray New Balance sneakers, navy sweatpants, an overcoat, and a navy hoodie which he wore raised. We made eye contact and I could see that his lips were moving as if he was saying something. I just assumed that dude was either talking to himself, reciting rap lyrics loudly — which many young men annoyingly do on the train, or speaking to the woman gripping her unruly child behind me. So I shrugged it off and stood in my new comfy chocolate boots listening to the new Keyshia Cole in full New York City commuter mode — zoned out or at least emitting the appearance of zoned out as we continued.

I looked in the direction of my friend in the New Balance and again he was talking but this time he was motioning something with his hands. Finally I realized that he was actually offering his seat to me. So I walked over, graciously thanked him and took his seat. He said he’d been trying to get my attention since 59th street and I just stared at him the entire time. I explained that I assumed that he was talking to himself. The black woman across from me laughed. He responded with “What? Come on? Chivalry is not dead.” So he stood near the train doors as I sat. When a seat opened up for him to sit down he sat a couple of seat from me.

As I prepared to exit the train, I dug in my purse looking for my house key mistakenly dropping a piece of paper on the floor. My friend picked it up with immediately. He got off the train a stop ahead of me. I waved good-bye and he blew me a kiss and exited the train without a word.

After not receiving my paycheck on time and my supervisor assigning me yet another menial task not in my job description, this stranger’s expressions of kindness truly lifted my spirits. Thank you again.