Ode to New York — Part 1

“I want to be a part of it, in Old New York!”

The iconic theme song from Scorsese’s film “New York, New York” — played at Yankee games and whenever someone is having a Frank Sinatra karaoke party — pretty much says it all. It is more than just lyrics beckoning us to visit The Big Apple. It is a statement about the majesty, immensity, and grit of our nation’s largest metropolis. Its subtext alludes to resiliency and determination, “…if I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere…” Here it is for your listening pleasure:

Fedoras off to you, Ol’ Blue Eyes!

So, obviously, I have been doing a lot of thinking about New York City lately…with it being the U.S. epicenter of the pandemic and all. I should say that I am a BIG fan of New York. I honestly don’t think anyone could be a little fan of such a city…either you love it or hate it. There is no room for middle ground, especially if you have to take a crowded subway on a hot, sweltering summer day right after a rainstorm and everyone smells like a wet dog…you get the picture.

I lived in New York City (Queens, to be exact…historic Sunnyside Gardens in a daddy Trump apartment, no less) for five years in the early to mid 1980’s. I also visited the city several times before and after that experience. It had been my childhood dream to run happily through the streets of NY since I first watched That Girl on television. Boy, did that TV show influence me! Holy Moses! I wanted to be Ann Marie, the pretty, young actress who moved from her small town in upstate New York to megatropolis New York City in search of Broadway fame and fortune. She gets a cute apartment and a super cool journalist boyfriend, too, while she’s at it. If the opening credits don’t lure you into the big city’s clutches, then nothing will.

I know it looks corny by today’s standards, but to a shy, nerdy kid it looked like the cat’s meow. I dreamt about flying a kite through Central Park, gazing adoringly at the lights of Broadway and twirling an umbrella at Lincoln Center as early as I can remember. I didn’t grow up in a small town, either. I was born in Detroit (gasp!) but we moved to West Los Angeles when I was two years old. I grew up in the shadows of academic UCLA; sandwiched in-between the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean and the ultra luxurious streets of Beverly HIlls. Neither surfer nor debutante, I never felt like I belonged.

There was something about New York, however — the stoops where people hung out and talked about all sorts of stuff and throngs of people walked in the streets day and night — that appealed to me. It was earthy, raw, exciting. Where I lived, people didn’t sit outside and talk. They hardly walked anywhere, either. I found Los Angeles blasè and dull. The days were hot, dry and too quiet for my taste.

Another influencer to my fragile girlhood psyche was the film West Side Story, (my all time favorite film, too, a true masterpiece!) though much later I found out it was filmed in Los Angeles. Sweet irony! But even though it was about gangs a la Romeo and Juliet, and it doesn’t portray New York has a healthy place to live (you think?), its setting of rooftop dances, chain link fences and tough talking hoodlums was enough for me.

So after I graduated college — San Francisco State University as an English/Creative Writing major — I moved to New York City with my boyfriend, who just happened to be a New Yorker. He grew up in Canarsie, Brooklyn and had an accent to prove it. (pizza = pizzer, “I saw it” = “I soar it”.) Fortunately, too, he had family living in Manhattan, so we had a place to crash when we first arrived. As anyone knows, NY is extremely expensive; on a post-college student’s budget it is very tough to get by.

Next installment — my first day, my first job, and my first apartment…do my New York fantasies come true?