Into The Arms Of America
Ok, so here’s the quandary.
I love New York City, but thirteen years later, the place is killin’ me.
I don’t just mean the fumes, shadows or concrete. And it’s more than the pace, noise, and frenzy. I’m talkin’ about politics, aspiration — the whole ladder climbing thing.
A few weeks ago, a younger friend and I were sipping homemade margaritas from the thirtieth floor sun terrace of Abbi and my building. All of Midtown was splayed out below us. We were a little buzzed.
“Man,” he said, “You’ve made it.”
“I dunno’ about that,” I said.
“C’mon: the job, the wife, the rock ‘n roll.”
I mean, listen, I’m really, really happy with who I am, and where I am. And I’m really appreciative and all. But I won’t front; I’m considering my next step. Correction: we’re considering our next steps. There will be home ownership. And children. And it could all be somewhere other than New York City. (Or not.)
Now, I’m not talking next week, or next month. But, yunno… soon.
So every time I leave Manhattan, I ponder: Does this look like the shape our life will take?
This weekend finds Abbi and I just a few blocks from where I grew up in suburban Philadelphia. It’s lush here. Bubbling streams (I caught a large mouth bass in the backyard). Country clubs. Pretty conservative.
But I look around out here amidst the great unwashed and kinda’ freak out.
Example. We made two visits to the King of Prussia Mall this weekend. Yunno, for wedding returns. (Yeah, still.) What a nightmare! It was like a rest stop: Superhighway, supersize me. “Outside it’s America,” I kept thinking. Dudes in half-shirts, women in leopard prints, squawking kids.
Oy.
Today we went to the movies. (Yeah, “Ironman,” six weeks late.) Lots of overweight. Lots of t-shirts and mandals. Squawking kids.
Wait, this sounds all surface. And maybe it is. But nothing makes me more anxious than the mall, or the popcorn line at the local cineplex.
Take the flipside, though.
We just had dinner at the country club. The view was nice: the eighteenth hole, last-night’s fireworks tonight. The food was average. The men’s room was impressive (the locker room, really; aisles and aisles of hair cream). The tennis whites? A bit much. The air kisses? A little nausiating.
I guess I’m talking about socio-economics.
And I’m sure there’s somewhere in between.
But like everything else in my life — or, the future of my life — it’s a complete mystery.
Peter Buck always says R.E.M. never set out to be anything, they set out to not to be something.
It’s not like I ever imagined that thirty-six and married was gonna’ look like this. It’s way different, and way better.
So I guess I’ll figure out what that something looks like when we get to that next something.
July 8th, 2008 at 12:40 am
Good Morning ‘Jammin -
Sounds to me as if you are growing up. Enjoy it and take what life throws at you. This coming from a recently turned 40-year-old.
July 11th, 2008 at 10:26 pm
Life in the ‘burbs is what you make of it.
Amidst all the overweight, mandals and complacency are some of the same things one can find in a big city — arts, culture, amazing and truly genuine people, true class and ambition. You just have to look (and work) harder to find it.
And if you’re inclined to have and raise children, (which it seems you and Abbi definitely are) it is a very viable and terrific option.
In most ‘burbs and small towns, it’s kind of a nice feeling to know that 95% of the time, if you forget to lock your car, or leave your purse unattended in a grocery store shopping cart, no harm done. Your belongings and purse will still be there when you return.
And kids can be kids — running and riding bikes down the sidewalks and low-traffic streets, even through neighbors’ yards — w/o taking their lives in their hands. And, for the most part, people watch out for one another.
As a small-town girl who never really chased the big-city dream, despite a desire to do that on occasion — now, approaching 40, I don’t feel as though I really missed out because of that.
And what some see as complacency, others see as peace — there is not the noise, frenzy and pace, nor the concrete or shadows, inherent in the city, that you mention.
It sounds like you’re at a crossroads. As you have been for some time now — on many levels.
As a long-time reader of your blog, and sometimes responder, I hope you find the answers you are looking for.