Never mind that I do not now, nor have I ever -- in thisd lifetime -- been a resident of New York. Since the first time I read about NYC I wanted to move there, live there. The first time I flew into La Guardia I had this feeling in my stomach: I'm coming home. By the next afternoon, as I was walking the streets of Greenwich Village, people were asking me directions, and I was giving them -- correctly. I have a good sense of direction and I pay attention. I don't know why people ask me for directions, but it happens.
I saw many, many Off- and Off-Off-Broadway shows on that first trip, no Broadway shows. It was 1979. My collaborator and I were there to visit with American Place Theatre about the possibility of their producing our play, but they weren't comfortable with our requirement of an all-woman cast, so there went that dream, onto the next.
Over the years I have returned to NYC as many times as I could afford it. I have made many friends in NY, and friends have moved to NY. I've subscribed to The New Yorker since 1981 and read the blurbs about the current shows, arts, music as avidly as if I were planning my weekly outings. I read the New York Times for news and arts the same way.
So what keeps me from moving to Manhattan, Brooklyn, or Queens? Not money, though I have none to speak of. I live small and frugally, I could manage. No, I stay where I am because of family.
I was born with a huge case of wanderlust. I love to travel. I have, in fact, travelled. Now that my resources are so limited I just want to be near my family. And they don't want to live in NYC. Nor could we afford to, as a family. So I'm looking to my next visit to New York, my real home.
Saturday scenery: for the Orange Cheato's 100th day ... - a few more signs of San Franciscans' discontent: Just a couple of random windows ... in a boutique storefront ... very tastefully displayed ... looks like...
1 hour ago