96-CityNight-93

I was born in Brooklyn and grew up in Queens. That’s New York, a city divided into 5 boroughs, each with its own character. Folks think New York is all Manhattan. Wall Street, the Empire State Building. Fifth Avenue. Skyscrapers. But most of New York isn’t Manhattan — and even Manhattan has neighborhoods. Greenwich Village, Harlem, Park Avenue, the Lower East Side. Manhattan’s small, but diverse. From the carousel in Central Park to the open air markets of Rivington Street, to the canyons of the financial district, there’s something for everyone crammed in one small island.

Small is the word for Manhattan, which is how come most of New York’s life happens in the other boroughs. Most families live in Brooklyn or Queens, though Staten Island’s finally come of age and the Bronx has improved a lot. I grew up in Queens. Holliswood. It was full of big old houses, woods and fields back then. I suppose it’s changed. Living less than a mile from the subway , I was surrounded by farms. Ducks, geese and chickens. Horses and donkeys were my neighbors. In those days, Brooklyn was more urban than Queens, but I think it’s all the same now.

When I say I grew up in New York,  people get the wrong idea. I didn’t grow up on mean streets. I lived in a rambling old house surrounded by trees … except I took a subway or bus to school and had access to all the neat stuff New York offers. From a teenager’s point of view, it was as good as it gets. The first time I lived in a city was Jerusalem, which is urban, but not  like New York. It’s ancient, full of ghosts and history. Mythology. Thousands of years hang heavily on its walls. Not your average city. When I moved back to the US, I settled in Boston.

Boston Commons and Statehouse-HP-1

I like the city, but not the parking, traffic, noise, or constant gridlock. After ten years in Boston, we moved to … Uxbridge. No, not Oxford. South central Massachusetts down by the Rhode Island border. Due south of Worcester. The Blackstone Valley. South of the Pike. It turned out neighbors are neighbors, no matter where you are.

I’ve lived in lots of places. Life is more alike than different, regardless of venue. Big city or a tiny village, everyone knows your business. You don’t have to tell them. They hear it through walls, pick it up in grocery stores, church, from your kids, friends and family. People talk. If you are doing anything interesting, they will talk about you. Even if you aren’t doing anything interesting, they will talk about you because people talk about each other. It’s a people thing.

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Our town isn’t exciting. Not much crime. Not a lot of activity. No public transportation. Teenagers have a hard time until they can drive. Mostly, life is people spending time with people. Hanging out with friends. Watching a movie together. Shopping. Celebrating holidays and birthdays. Barbeques in the back yard in summer. Trick or treating on Halloween.

No matter where you live, it’s about relationships, not architecture.

City and country are not so different except for scenery. People are people. Suburb, city, or middle of nowhere, it’s your friends and family who comprise your world. Not your town, city, or state. Where you live is a state of mind, not of the union.

WEEKLY WRITING CHALLENGE: SAME OLD WORLD

15 thoughts on “WEEKLY WRITING CHALLENGE: SAME OLD WORLD

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  5. Watching a bit of “Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House” the other night is a reminder of when our world was young and those “little boxes” were a big deal when we moved from the city to the suburbs. Now, we live in what many would call “the country”.

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    • Yet, somehow, things are strangely the same, although I grant you we have a lot more land. But there are trade-offs, mostly I wouldn’t trade back. I can’t imagine hassling the parking, traffic, dirt and noise anymore. Can you?

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    • It’s a great place to visit. I don’t mean that as funny. It really IS a great place to visit … especially if you have some money to spend. Or a friend to stay with. Amazing stuff to do. Even if you just walk around and go to museums, it’s got so much. But I really wouldn’t want to go back to live there. Not anymore.

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    • We’ve been pretty lucky with neighbors — over all. In Boston, mostly we just ignored each other. In Roxbury, we were friends and had block parties. When we moved to Uxbridge, Garry was the first person of color — and I was the only Jew — in the entire (all 11,000 people) town. Our next door neighbor was flying a confederate flag. He also had a lot of tattoos and motorcycles and weird skin heady friends. So Garry said “This is ridiculous.” He marched next door, knocked on the door. When the guy answered — Ed was a really BIG guy — by husband looked at him and said “Do we have a problem?”

      Ed took the flag down. Turned out he was a plumber, so he also fixed our shower. My husband has balls 🙂 Sometimes, direct confrontation works. Sometimes, it doesn’t. Some neighbors are really BAD.

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