City Of Dreams

Last night I saw Eddie Izzard at Madison Square Garden. Physically getting myself to this performance entailed leaving my apartment at 6:30, walking a block and a half to catch the Q, going all of 6 stops, getting off the train at Herald Square, and walking another 2 blocks to the Garden. This got me into my seat by 7:30, half an hour before showtime, giving me plenty of time to settle in and watch the Jumbotron: Mr. Izzard had his Twitter page up live onscreen and his avalanche of @replies was scrolling by for all to enjoy. There were the expected sorts of comments:

"@eddieizzard Hello from Row G, Section 202!"
"@eddieizzard SHARON WILL YOU MARRY ME?"
"@eddieizzard DAD I'M GAY"
"to the guy in the blue checkered shirt sitting in front of me: shut the fuck up. you know who you are. @eddieizzard"
"At the @eddieizzard show at MSG. Brought my flag in case anyone tries to claim my seat. :)"

But I also noticed some people who seemed to be Tweeting from out-of-town:

"In NYC this weekend to see @eddieizzard! Best birthday present EVER!"
"@eddieizzard: We came all the way from Kentucky to see you. You better be good! LOL"
"Baltimore loves @eddieizzard!"
"Can't believe I'm in Madison Square Garden right now waiting for @eddieizzard! Loving this trip to NY!"

I swear, I even spotted someone claiming they had flew in from Turkey to see their favorite action transvestite in, uh, action. Man, I thought, people have crossed oceans to get to this show. Made an entire vacation of it. I merely crossed a bridge and walked a few feet. It started to occur to me, skimming these many abbreviated missives, that I had begun to take for granted my plum position on this planet.

This realization put me in mind of a thread on one of my message boards (can it — my entire social life is conducted online, ok?) in which the merits of different states as places of residence were being debated. Because this was the Interwebz and the board members were from all over the place, each arguing for their own home state, things were starting to look ugly for New York: "It's dirty. It's so expensive. There's too much crime. The weather sucks. New Yorkers are rude."

I could not let this stand, this disparagement of my beloved locale. By God, I was born and raised here! As those who know me well know, if the issue of citizenship is ever in question, I am a New Yorker first, an American second. Thus, I mounted my defense:

"I live in Brooklyn. It's not the greatest neighborhood in terms of trendiness or gentrification, but the lack of tragically hip art students could be a selling point, and I'm not afraid to walk home alone after dark. Plus, my apartment is huge by NYC studio standards, and the location is of ultimate convenience — walking distance to the subway, supermarket, library, laundromat, pizza place and Prospect Park. And by 'walking distance,' I mean from 3-4 blocks to literally right next door. And it's only about a 40-minute commute to midtown Manhattan.

My expenses — rent, utilities, food, phone, cable, laundry, transportation, even my therapist — come to less than $2,000 a month. Even with my crappy salary, that still leaves a few hundred to play. I suppose a big chunk of that is that I don't have a car anymore (not even necessary), my loans are paid off, and I have no credit cards. But I also don't make any money off of poker, and my daddy doesn't pay for squat.

Granted, it gets noisy, the weather can get crappy, and yes, sometimes people can be rude, but I think this is more than made up for by the fact that I LIVE IN NEW YORK CITY! This place never sleeps! I have access to some of the greatest shit in the world! Some people give up everything just to get here; some spend their whole lives just dreaming of it. For my whole life, I've been lucky enough to live no more than an hour's train ride away. So fine — maybe I'm a little biased, but damn it, I fuckin' love NY!"

Never hurts to remind myself of that. :)