My parents hate New York City. They both grew up in Jersey and put a lot of energy into raising their five girls outside the grip of the inner city… so the fact that their youngest just can’t seem to get enough of New York doesn’t sit well with either of them, especially my mother.
Every time I talk to Mom she has a new horror story about New York. When we spoke this morning the topic of discussion switched to ‘Did you hear about the guy in New York that tried to kill the president?’ This question was a follow up to the conversation I had with my father a few days ago about ‘Have you heard about how they’re gonna blow up the subways?’
As an ex-local of the city I can’t help but shake my head at the false perceptions of New York City created through scary news stories and psychos out to harm people. I hope factors like this don’t deter people from visiting where I consider to be one of the greatest places in the world. A place where just about anyone in the street will stop for a conversation and unique opportunity oozes out of every block.
Lord knows I could spend hours retaliating all the media hype circulated that makes people want to stay away from the city … like swine flu and subway threats.
Still… I’d rather show everyone, personally, what it’s really about. Why I’m temporarily leaving my stable, sensible, life in Australia to hit the streets with faith that something is there waiting. Because like Frank himself wanted everyone to know… if you can make it there, you’ll make it anywhere. Which is why I’ve got nothin to lose. Right?
So Mom and Dad … you know I love you … but I’m totally still going back. Back to the city of possibility… the one I’ll arrive at after another mere eight sleeps…