It's amazing how European this city looks sometimes.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
New Post.... FINALLY!
So I find myself in New York City for the weekend. I got off the DC to NYC Chinatown bus to be hit with the smells and vibrant rush of New Yorkers. After a few strides I assumed the standard New York mid-range blank stare while power-walking past I-bankers, lawyers and eleven-teen-year-olds in skin-tight black pants and boots.
I realize I was once a New Yorker myself. Almost 3 years of experience in the Big Apple. But for the first moment since I left New York, I realized this is not my town any more. The mid-range blank stare was just a little off. I felt like an retired soccer player kicking a ball for the first time in 10 years. I recognized I was complaining to myself about the dirt in the subways. I stared at the subway street performers in annoyance and not in pleasant acceptance of their right to play in the midst of leaking oil, rubbish and the underground Iron Horse that drowns them out every three to five minutes. The people moved just a little too fast, swiping their subway metro cards in the giant metal human funneling stations at the entry and exits. For the first time in years, New York is not MY town anymore. Before, whenever I visited, I always was able to feel like I still owned a piece of the vibrant dichotomy that is "The City." Now, I'm just as good as any Jersey tourist clogging the sidewalks of Soho on Saturday and Sunday.
It was kind of a spontaneous decision Friday-Saturday morning to take the bus up here. In many ways that's the way I like to roll. You will rarely see me give up a three-day weekend doing something at home I can do any other weekend. I wanted to take advantage of the extended holiday weekend.
I am so so glad I did.
Outside of meeting up with my close friends up here. Outside of drinking loads of beer, whiskey and wine. New York reminded me of another time in my life. I moved to New York when I was twenty four years old. Slightly older now, in my constant state of hangover during this weekend I realized I truly missed being that age. That was a time when you could do anything and it was considered socially acceptable. For example, if you wanted to go and be a chef for a year you could do it. If you wanted to travel the world and quit your job you can do that. Now, I know what you all are thinking. "Um, didn't you just quit your job and travel for a year?"
Yes I did. And in many ways I guess there is not THAT much of a difference between my age now and then. But there is a difference in naivety and energy that I find myself yearning for but knowing I cannot go back to. For one, I definitely bounced back from days of drinking quicker. But also, at twenty-four there was less societal pressure to conform to corporate America. There was less societal pressure to conform to the "Jones' " - with all the negative and positive connotations associated with the bucolic white picket-fence, 2.5 kids, a pregnant wife and a house with a bonus room. "It's got a bonus room honey!!!"
At my age, it's always about career building and "when are you going to get married?" Whatever happened to that twenty-four-year-old who had none of these obligations?
I am reminded of a great foreign independent film called "The Spanish Apartment." At the end of the film the French protagonist is seen running towards the nostalgia of living in this Spanish apartment. He says he IS everyone who lived with him. In reality, if the movie was extended. I am sure eventually the protagonist would grow to be in his late twenties and realize, "I can't turn back. I have no regrets, but the past is the past and there is no turning back."
Your youth is your youth. To use a cliche, 'you can't turn back time.' However, with that said, that doesn't mean it's all down hill. I think in life. It's less about chasing a certain age, chasing a certain time, chasing a certain dream, chasing what you think is happiness and more about just appreciating life as a journey and all the experiences that make your journey unique.
Last night over copious amounts of bourbon and red wine I found myself discussing how awesome it would be to be twenty-four again. Next time I hope to find myself drinking copious amounts of alcohol discussing how awesome it is to have the experiences that life has given me.
I realize I was once a New Yorker myself. Almost 3 years of experience in the Big Apple. But for the first moment since I left New York, I realized this is not my town any more. The mid-range blank stare was just a little off. I felt like an retired soccer player kicking a ball for the first time in 10 years. I recognized I was complaining to myself about the dirt in the subways. I stared at the subway street performers in annoyance and not in pleasant acceptance of their right to play in the midst of leaking oil, rubbish and the underground Iron Horse that drowns them out every three to five minutes. The people moved just a little too fast, swiping their subway metro cards in the giant metal human funneling stations at the entry and exits. For the first time in years, New York is not MY town anymore. Before, whenever I visited, I always was able to feel like I still owned a piece of the vibrant dichotomy that is "The City." Now, I'm just as good as any Jersey tourist clogging the sidewalks of Soho on Saturday and Sunday.
It was kind of a spontaneous decision Friday-Saturday morning to take the bus up here. In many ways that's the way I like to roll. You will rarely see me give up a three-day weekend doing something at home I can do any other weekend. I wanted to take advantage of the extended holiday weekend.
I am so so glad I did.
Outside of meeting up with my close friends up here. Outside of drinking loads of beer, whiskey and wine. New York reminded me of another time in my life. I moved to New York when I was twenty four years old. Slightly older now, in my constant state of hangover during this weekend I realized I truly missed being that age. That was a time when you could do anything and it was considered socially acceptable. For example, if you wanted to go and be a chef for a year you could do it. If you wanted to travel the world and quit your job you can do that. Now, I know what you all are thinking. "Um, didn't you just quit your job and travel for a year?"
Yes I did. And in many ways I guess there is not THAT much of a difference between my age now and then. But there is a difference in naivety and energy that I find myself yearning for but knowing I cannot go back to. For one, I definitely bounced back from days of drinking quicker. But also, at twenty-four there was less societal pressure to conform to corporate America. There was less societal pressure to conform to the "Jones' " - with all the negative and positive connotations associated with the bucolic white picket-fence, 2.5 kids, a pregnant wife and a house with a bonus room. "It's got a bonus room honey!!!"
At my age, it's always about career building and "when are you going to get married?" Whatever happened to that twenty-four-year-old who had none of these obligations?
I am reminded of a great foreign independent film called "The Spanish Apartment." At the end of the film the French protagonist is seen running towards the nostalgia of living in this Spanish apartment. He says he IS everyone who lived with him. In reality, if the movie was extended. I am sure eventually the protagonist would grow to be in his late twenties and realize, "I can't turn back. I have no regrets, but the past is the past and there is no turning back."
Your youth is your youth. To use a cliche, 'you can't turn back time.' However, with that said, that doesn't mean it's all down hill. I think in life. It's less about chasing a certain age, chasing a certain time, chasing a certain dream, chasing what you think is happiness and more about just appreciating life as a journey and all the experiences that make your journey unique.
Last night over copious amounts of bourbon and red wine I found myself discussing how awesome it would be to be twenty-four again. Next time I hope to find myself drinking copious amounts of alcohol discussing how awesome it is to have the experiences that life has given me.
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