We All Need a Little NYC. Really.

Mention New York City and those who have been smile knowingly, and say,  " I love it!! and I am going back as soon as I can."

Some who have never been and are NYC virgins say, " Meh..don't need to go there! Too big, too busy, too expensive..why shoud I do that

when I still haven't been to Biggar, Saskatchewan?

and it's bigger than New York, yucka yucka."

Some who have never been and are NYC virgins too, say " I can't wait to go!! It's big city mecca, the big apple, the whateverwhereverwhenever!"

And everyone is absolutely right.

But...once you go, you know.

It's an ode to urban. A capitalist's dream. An anarchist's orgasm. Sensory overload. Everything you ever wanted...and nothing you can't find.

Be all. End all.

It is the definition of superlative.

There is no end to the litany of descriptors, to the age old icons,

to the visions, the views, the captions and the quotes.

It is simple chaos. 

And all things in between.

Incredibly brilliant architecture.

Breathtaking parks and monuments to greatness.

Endless opportunity and bottomless depravity.

Wit and witless. Charm and ignorance

It's the entire ball of yarn.

Constantly being unravelled and rerolled.

It is Everyman's City.

It is Gotham. It is Camelot.

It is all places betwixt and between.

It may be American on paper..but it's really a Country unto itself. 

The vast majority of visitors find it familiar, and happily, feel at home, once the country bumpkin urge to jay-walk is quelled.

New York is the American dream personified.

Greed capitalized. Culture refined. Cuisine defined.

It is the alpha and omega of western style.

It is empathy. Sympathy. Boredom. Indifference.

And especially Patience and Fortitude.

A lesson to be learned on every corner.

A must see - again and again, and once more with feeling!

This is the City your dreams and your nightmares created.

If you don't feel alive here, you're probably not.

It's New York.

New York is the end game.

If it won't work here, it won't work.

Weird. Wired. Wonderful.

An ode to hope and humanity.

Go!

You won't be alone.

Just do it. And do it. And do it again.

Six Decades: Part III - Slightly Sidetracked

I was filled with such great expectations!

By dickens, I was going to explore the pros and cons and ins and outs and ups and downs of how I got to be ME. Here and now.
But what I found happening as I edged ever nearer the precipice of the age that shall not define me is that I didn't really feel like I had a lot to share of earth shaking significance. At least nothing that would change your world. Of course, lots has changed mine, constantly and perpetually, world without end.
But right after the last installment I stalled. (And I went to New York City- we all need a little NYC.)

And after walking for hours in Gotham, my feet begged me to pay attention. I had no choice but to submit. And so now it's time to confess that I have a foot fetish.

Not the kind that makes you think of quirky high heels, slightly sleazy, I feel queazy, let me nibble your toes stuff. No, not the fun stuff.  But the  "at 16 years old I had a bi-lateral bunyon-ectomy" stuff. And yes, it's appropriate for you to think, "What?"
What it means is I had bunyons removed from both sides of both feet because they had impeded my abililty to pedal - and I saw a podiatrist.  He said I needed to have the surgery, or I would be a "cripple" by the time I was 40. Today, and everyday since this operation, the doctor remains politically incorrect and I have been fine, and so have my feet, thank you very much.
The most outstanding outcome of the event (other than a life long love affair with foot rubs) is that it took place 2 weeks before I was due to enrol at university and  check in at the residence at University of Guelph.

And so begins Chapter the Next.

I'm 16 years old. Early acceptance for spring admission to University...time to get there...
My feet are wrapped in cotton bandages, many times around each foot, protecting surgical incisions that excised bone, and were stitched together, a total of 296 times, equally shared left side, right side, left foot, right foot.
Protecting this mass of bio-hazard bandaging, were 2 very attractive green garbage bags. One per foot.
And so I arrived on campus for the very first time and  entered the U of G residence, with my Mom and my sister Jane.
"Hi!" We said to the group of guys standing in the entrance hall.
"Hellllloooo!" Funny Big Guy said, " What floor are you on?"
"Uh, top floor  -6th I think? Is there an elevator? 'Cuz, uh, I can't walk just now..?"
"Well", said FBG, "that's not a problem!" That guy over there will take your trunk up to your room, via the elevator, and YOU, little lady , will just hop on board my back. Hie yup!"
And -there is not one false word in this testimony- he hitched me onto his back, and I rode him up to the 6th floor of U of G residence, with Mom and Jane following behind to catch me if he fell.
Now, THAT's a first day of school.Colour me lucky and rub my feet!