Goodbye, New York (for now)

I wrote this sitting on my stoop while movers took my stuff out of my apartment for the last time. It took me all week to edit, but I preferred the tense to be in the present so I left it as is.

Well. It’s over. At least this stretch is over. I don’t really know what to think about it all. There is such a strange feeling of “homelessness” that comes when you move out of a place that you call your own and into the world of other people. I’m moving back to my childhood home, so I guess in a lot of ways, I have it much better than Tom, who is moving in with his girlfriend. But still. There is something to be said for being out on your own for 8 years and then migrating back to the life you had in high school. Returning to a world that someone else built, designed, furnished and, decorated. It’s a strange feeling.

New York is and has been, my home for my entire “adult” life. I’m not moving out by choice so much as the overwhelming evidence to support this, as a prudent decision. I will save 1.5 months of rent. I will get my security deposit and most importantly, I’m going to stop paying for an apartment that I cannot really use or enjoy. It’s the smart decision, as told to me by many, but it still feels wrong. Like I’m leaving something unfinished.

Tom feels this more acutely than I do. He can’t not finish a book. Or a run. Or really anything without some sense of guilt. A sense of guilt that there is work that isn’t done that should be. We spoke a lot about “One last hurrah" in New York before we inevitably move out and on with our lives. We didn’t get that. Of course, this is probably the easiest anyone has had it when it comes to change induced by coronavirus. The pandemic accelerated trends that were long in the works and it did the same for our scheduled departure from New York City. No one is spared when something affects the entire world and we are certainly no different.

I’ve been asked often, “What do you like most about New York?” And that is a hard question to answer fully and concretely. Yes, I love the food. But they have great food in every major city in the world. Yes, I love the music scene. But you could argue that LA has as good if not better live music than New York. Yes, I love the fact that no matter what day of the week or time of day it is, there is always something going on. Not only is there something always going on, but there is always a lot going on. Decisions on how you spend your time are merely limited by your imagination and willingness to step outside your apartment. Even still, this constant presence of available activities is not limited to New York. Los Angeles, San Francisco and even Chicago present that same offering domestically and cities such as London, Paris, Hong Kong, and Tokyo do the same internationally. So if all of these classic attributes about New York are shared amongst many other places, then what is it about New York that I love so very much?

First of all, and this is debatable, but what New York has in those mentioned categories is leaps and bounds beyond other cities. Yes, other cities have great food. But they do not have the same diversity in cuisine, quality, and, price range that New York has. Yes, LA is home to the music industry, but they don’t have as many venues, clubs, and events that New York does. I’ve been to shows in LA, there is something elevated about the way artists approach a show in New York that I don’t feel across the country. I plan to find out for myself, but that has been my experience. Finally, available activities. Yes, if you can’t find something to do in Chicago on a Tuesday night, you’re probably not looking hard enough but New York smacks you in the face with happenings. I’ve found myself needing to learn to say no to protect some semblance of a sleep schedule. Which is another point about New York: it never closes. Never. Concerts go till 4 am and after that, you can go to a club to listen to music until the sun rises. People talk about European countries going late but they don’t start until late. A New York night starts at happy hour and ends whenever you can no longer feel your legs for the dancing you’ve done. That is special. That is New York.

Outside of those tangible attributes, there is something else that I think makes New York special. Something that Tom spoke to on our second to last night in the apartment. The nature of an intangible is that it is difficult to articulate, but he was spot on when he said “Its the energy.” There is a vibe in this city that pulses 24/7. No matter what part of town you’re in or what time of day it is, you can feel it. It’s the energy of millions of people gathering and separating in the subway station like a school of minnows. Its the tinkling of glasses on rooftop bars, packed to the gills on the first day of spring. It’s the emotion in a musician’s voice when they announce “HELLO New York” when they come on stage. Because musicians, like every other performer, recognize what it means to book a show here. Its the fact that, on my daily commute, I walk past art galleries, thrift shops, restaurants, coffee shops, bodegas, all living examples of people doing their best to actualize their dreams. If that same energy exists in other cities, I haven’t experienced it. It’s for this reason New York is special, and why it will always be my favorite city on earth.

I'll leave you with one story, or a local legend rather. Disclaimer: I cannot confirm the validity of this story, but I choose to believe it. It’s the story of our corner bodega man Willy. Willy has had his shop open for over twenty years. He’s open 24/7 and he knows the name of every one of his regular customers. Outside of making the best sandwiches in the city, he runs a business the right way. Willy works hard, takes care of his employees and customers, and treats people the right way. He is the small business owner that I aspire to be.

I mentioned the store is open 24/7. And when I say 24/7, I mean 24/7. To illustrate his point on this, he has told us frequently that he doesn’t know where the keys to his door are and therefore is literally unable to close.

To the story.

When Hurricane Sandy struck, and the streets of Williamsburg were flooded, Willy’s shop was still open. One day, while the streets were empty of people and full of water, Willy heard helicopter blades piercing the sky that continued to get louder and louder. He walked to the door to see what was going on and saw the copter land in the middle of the street in the Roebling and S 3rd st intersection. Understandably confused, Willy walked out to see what the deal was and was greeted by one of the police officers riding in the helicopter. The officer requested two coffees, cream no sugar. He rushed back into the store to grab the beverages and returned to the chopper. They grabbed their drinks, hopped back in the cockpit, and flew back to perform their duties.

I know that Willy refused to close his shop, even in the worst of conditions. Whether or not he actually provided delivery service to airborne police is something I don’t care to question. That’s New York grit. It may not be unique, but it’s characteristic of this town. I’d bet if you looked you could find countless stories just like that one and that’s what I love about this city. It’s a city full of Willys. Unapologetic New Yorkers.

I’ll be back. I may even be back to live here by the end of the year. But this marks a time when I’m leaving and I was long overdue to pay homage to the city who made me who I am. I love you, New York. Even though you’ll forget about me by the time my plane’s wheels leave the ground, I love you.

Tonight, in your honor, I’ll make myself a Manhattan. Even though I’m more of a Brooklyn guy (the sunsets are better).

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