by Michael J. Mangano
You grow up in then-unfashionable Brooklyn, become an adult and make enough money to afford moving out of Brooklyn to Manhattan’s fashionable, expensive east side – then, years later, you learn that, even if you wanted to, you can’t afford to move back to that same area in now-fashionable, ultra-expensive Brooklyn that you moved out of.
You spend years taking the subway – to school, to work, to whatever. But when you move into Manhattan and climb up the corporate ladder, you begin taking taxis and car service, and vow never to take the subway again…till you start arriving for more and more meetings late because of the city’s crazy traffic, and you suddenly realize that the only way you can be certain of getting to meetings on time in Manhattan is by taking the subway.
Growing up in New York City, land of asphalt and concrete, it’s not surprising that the sport you spend the most time playing is basketball; there are basketball hoops in hundreds of schoolyards and playgrounds, all within walking distance of any location. So, by years of pounding those pavements, you eventually become somewhat skilled at what is commonly referred to, for good reason, as “the city game.” However, one day in adulthood, in an inter-company scrimmage, you shockingly discover that you’re not quite the hoopster you used to be. Apparently, all those years you spent on the city’s hard outdoor courts positively impacting your jump-shot also negatively impacted your knees…and now, though you may have a good jump-shot, you can barely jump.
There’s that little Italian restaurant, in the questionable neighborhood, that you were introduced to years ago, where there was no menu and you had to choose from whatever the owner felt like cooking that day…which was all to die for. The medium-sized room never seemed to be more than half full, and you prayed that they would get enough customers to stay in business because the food was so…well, to die for. As that wise old Greek, Aesop, said, “Be careful what you wish for….” – because as word gradually spread and more and more New York (as well as out-of-town) luminaries – movie stars, sports figures, politicians, etceteras – began frequenting the restaurant, in order for you to now have dinner there, rather than just popping in anytime like you used to do, you had to make a reservation literally months in advance.
Growing up in the fashion capital of the country, you spend your young adult years walking past boutique after boutique, usually dressed in jeans, longing for the day when you’ll be able to afford those gorgeous designer threads they have on display in the windows. Then, at long last, that day arrives: you’re finally earning enough to walk into one of those intimidating temples of trend and indulge yourself…and what are the fashionistas on Madison Avenue now parading around in? Jeans.
Ah, there’s no place like New York City for the holidays! The Easter Parade, the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the lighting of the giant Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. You grow up watching all of these spectacles on TV, and long for the day when, as an adult, you can attend them in person. Then, like so many adults living and working in New York City, you eventually become anxious to get out of town on weekends and holidays and escape to your country home…where you watch all those holiday events on TV.