“If you’re not in New York, you’re camping out.” – Thomas E. Dewey.
I couldn’t agree with this more. Particularly in reference to America-land. Although I must say, the decade I spent living in Australia was a bit like camping out. And, minus the hideous husband creature spitting lies every day, I loved it.
But to me, living on an island of 22 million people, compared to a country with roughly 300 million more people… that impacts the camp-factor.
Never the less, as I briefly mentioned the other day, country’s been on my mind. There really aren’t many things I love more than New York City. I could name a couple. Change, for example, is something that’s always been critical to me.
I believe we live many lives, I also think these lives are quite short. And while I’ve had crap stuff happen to me, along with the best of us, I somehow stay hungry for life. Change, to me, is a critical part of life.
Maybe it’s because, unlike my four siblings who were moved around a bit, I essentially grew up in one place. Went through one set of schools with the same group of crap kids. Worked the same job through High School. Went to college and did radio day in and day out, which was cool – alas, same.
Getting to New York City was a task. Being there this time through was a blessing, I adored every drippy second – even the ones dipped in depression over my first divorce.
We’re field tripping to Maine in a week, blog-family. My life is upside down and inside out right now, and my Novel is spilling easier than ever. My father actually commented on how fast I was typing yesterday.
So back to it… New York City, I love you and thank you for delivering everything exactly as you promised… particularly, book.