Our Manhattan Trip

o we went to the city on Friday to see Jake's favorite comedian, Doug Stanhope. It was an overall good trip, except Jake got mugged, and that can put a damper on things.
A few observations about New York City:
I hate that New Yorkers don't look up, or around. In a city this gargantuan, so chaotic and hectic, you would think one would take the time to "smell the roses". Observe other New Yorkers, gaze at architecture, admire some artistry, don't ignore the world because you are jaded.
Obese people are either not welcome in this city, or it is impossible to stay obese because of the ghastly amount of walking you must do. My heels are bruised from our hike to the subway. And the subway...the most hideous ride of your life. Surrounded by drunk, high, crazy people who all smell like the urine they tread upon in the stations. It is difficult to maintain composure when grasping for dear life onto a germ-ridden pole.
The comedian made it a point to ask why the hell people would love in a shithole like NYC. I second that. To visit for a weekend, lovely. Gazing at the yachts behind the 3,000th Starbucks near the old WTC sites, actually seeing a kid who went to Averill Park running across the street with a small harem of scantily clad women, enjoying the most expensive bagel I have ever eaten, and feeling the freedom of being just another number in a crowd.These are all things I could appreciate and temporarily love. But practically speaking...how does one procreate without guilt or logic in this city? How does one grocery shop, lounge, and not become destitute in this world. New York is the anti- Boston. Boston reminds me of the preppy kids, the Nautical senior citizens, the history, the laughter of the east coast, the gentle din of a relaxing lobster dinner, the clean cobbled streets upon which you can safely navigate toward beautiful sights.
NY reminds me of the dirty kids, who dropped out of school, the homeless, the tacky souvenir, the dark and dreary northeast, the loud roar of trains and bars, and the dirty overcrowded streets upon which you risk your life to navigate toward overpriced, overhyped sights.
I am proud of the Yankees, I am proud of Cuomo, I am proud of Albany, I am proud of The beautiful Atlantic, I am proud of the resilience New Yorkers have had post- 9/11, post-Pataki. But I feel ashamed of the myth of the streets of gold that draw in tourists and immigrants. This is not the best we have to offer, world. Drive two hours out of the city, and see what America is about. Not 12.00 beer, not muggings south of houston, not a man peeing on a subway map under a marquis, not the beggar playing a kazoo with his money cup outheld. Please, see the vast cornfields under the sky in Iowa. Please see the rolling farms, and vibrant leaves of upstate NY. Please see the ocean waves, the ancient buildings in Massachusetts. Please see the towering palms, and leaping dolphins of Florida. Please see the flaming red rock and canyons of Arizona. And to hell with NYC