The Pride of New York
There's something about New Yorkers. It's as though they are proud of their ability to simply exist there. And it's not just New Yorkers. Many people living in large, congested cities feel this same pride. It's understandable in a way.
The level of difficulty in getting around, the hassles one must endure daily, the opportunities for misfortune... they all occur in far greater number than in a city built in the 20th century, with suburban sprawl, not confined by geography; plenty of parking, friendly faces, fewer encounters with strangers.
And this is the source of the pride. There is more to know, more to avoid, more challenges to overcome. So when you know it, sidestep it, and overcome it there is a sense of accomplishment.
Is not the prouder rat the one who completed the more difficult maze? The cheese is the same, but tastes sweeter to the one who worked harder for it. In this case, the cheese is the cream variety and it's on a bagel grabbed after a morning commute. The maze, Manhattan.
Certainly there are many reasons people choose to live where they do. But of those who move to New York as adults, there is undoubtedly a faction in search of the excitement, the cachet. The excitement is little more than the challenge of daily life. And that challenge is welcome in a life where failure, disappointment, or simply lackluster experiences may lurk elsewhere.
I find it urksome when urban-dwellers such as these are quick to spout out their city of choice with a certain arrogance, haughtily chuckling at my simple suburban existence; my efficient suburban existence, I would argue. They seem unable to stop themselves from touting the virtues of the stairs to those who prefer the elevator.
The level of difficulty in getting around, the hassles one must endure daily, the opportunities for misfortune... they all occur in far greater number than in a city built in the 20th century, with suburban sprawl, not confined by geography; plenty of parking, friendly faces, fewer encounters with strangers.
And this is the source of the pride. There is more to know, more to avoid, more challenges to overcome. So when you know it, sidestep it, and overcome it there is a sense of accomplishment.
Is not the prouder rat the one who completed the more difficult maze? The cheese is the same, but tastes sweeter to the one who worked harder for it. In this case, the cheese is the cream variety and it's on a bagel grabbed after a morning commute. The maze, Manhattan.
Certainly there are many reasons people choose to live where they do. But of those who move to New York as adults, there is undoubtedly a faction in search of the excitement, the cachet. The excitement is little more than the challenge of daily life. And that challenge is welcome in a life where failure, disappointment, or simply lackluster experiences may lurk elsewhere.
I find it urksome when urban-dwellers such as these are quick to spout out their city of choice with a certain arrogance, haughtily chuckling at my simple suburban existence; my efficient suburban existence, I would argue. They seem unable to stop themselves from touting the virtues of the stairs to those who prefer the elevator.
posted by C.T. at
11:54 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home