There's an old New York joke about Shakespeare in the Park; Central Park, that is. Hamlet is being performed. During the death scene, the entire audience leaves. They didn't want to get involved.
This is from an article I read on aol news today. It talked about how New Yorkers have the reputation of being hard, not wanting to get involved, and yet under that crusty exterior beats hearts of caring, shiny gold for their world and fellow street neighbors, no matter if they're from Brooklyn or Kansas.
The last line told of how, after 9/11, President Bush told American to go to Disneyworld, take the kids and enjoy life the way Americans should. The writer told how THAT was the spirit of NY. Stand up, shake off the bad stuff and move on with today.
I could write twenty novels about the things I love of New York. It's home to me, more so than the little Virginia town I live in, and I think lots of people feel that. From the moment I get off the Amtrak and ride the escalator up into Penn Station, I feel like I'm reborn. Every single time.
I will never forget a little older lady I encountered in Little Italy. She was keeping the gift shop on a little street (probably around the corner from Lombardi's, my favorite restaurant on this earth, no matter where else I eat in my life) and she seemed so sad. My friend and I walked in, the sole shoppers that quiet night, and within a few moments she brightened up like sunshine and I knew we had brought a true ray of joy to her soul, for whatever reason. Maybe just our kindness. She even gave us a free disposable camera, telling us in her Italian tongue with American words that we should enjoy this last day and take pictures of everything! To be given a free something in New York, in a gift shop? That's amazing enough. :D But her spirit rose that night. To me, that is the spirit of New York. I always get misty thinking of her.
Okay, this was off the writing subject, but after the attempted destruction of a part of my, our, beloved Times Square this past week? I wanted to give my beloved NY a hug. My body's here, but a huge part of my heart is and always will be there.
I might just write some novels about this. New York has a million stories, and mine is now one of those. My cup runneth over. :)