New2NY: Leaving the New York Bubble

If you really want to observe how New York has had an impact on your life, leave it.

I don't merely mean take the Q to Brooklyn or the LIRR to Montauk, but escape the New York bubble. To do that, you usually need to get on a plane, or a long train ride, or an even longer bus ride or an even even longer car ride.

I did not realize how important this step is in the whole "moving to New York from someplace out of New York" process, by my recent 5-day trip to Denver made me understand the city from a more enlightened perspective.

I have only lived here for about six months -- half a year if you want to think about it that way. Long enough to feel established and grow some short roots but short enough to still completely flounder at the awe of the city's magnanimosity, my time here has convinced my lifestyle that it needs to adapt in ways my brain didn't even acknowledge.

Exhibit A: Denver International Airport (DIA) uses an underground tram system to connect the three concourses with the main terminal and baggage claim. Within five minutes of disembarking the plane on Mile-High soil, I found myself face to face with a tram about as crowded as the R train on a Tuesday night at 9:45 p.m. (before most of the major shows let out but early enough so those leaving the comedy performances and the earlier plays care pining to get home). There was definitely room. But I was not going to succumb to the stubbornness of the weary travelers who would rather have their two feet of circum-personal space than let me on. Without a thought (all of this analysis came after), I pushed on, found a grab bar and awaited my baggage claim stop. Then came the thinking -- "Wow, that was really New York of me!"

Exhibit B: I dare any New Yorker to step into a suburban supermarket (not just a grocery store or a market but a SUPERmarket) and not feel envious. Even if all you eat are frozen Hungry Man dinners of mashed potatoes and Salisbury steak and don't care about the selection of fresh, pure produce, you would still feel jealous of the significantly lower prices. Aisle after aisle, frozen food freezer after deli counter, prepared food bar after produce racks (complete with those misters which make a "thunder" noise before turning on), cheese cooler after organic food section, sample table after fresh fish department, I stood enamored at what I was missing out on. Sure there is Whole Foods, the cult market of Manhattan, but have you seen the inflated prices there? Just to satisfy my urge for suburban SUPERmarket greatness in New York, I bought a box of scrumptious, juicy blueberries for $1 and two California avocadoes (the only true avocado) also for $1 each. Call it gluttony if you want, but I love my fresh produce.

Lastly, Exhibit C: Since moving to Manhattan, I've developed my already keen sense of direction to one in which I think of almost everything in terms of North, South, East and West. With a grid system like ours, it's so easy to find your way around; except when you go below Houston, I'm a little rickety. However, when you take away the grid, the park, the water, boy, I have no idea which way is up. At DIA, I finally figured out which side of the terminal I should tell my Aunt to pick me up by figuring out that I could not see the Rocky Mountains in any direction so I must be facing east. If you haven't figured it out, I use landmarks a lot. Perhaps a few more months of internal compass training in New York should do the trick of fine tuning my sense of direction enough not to get me lost in other parts of the world.

[Random NY fact: Manhattan doesn't exactly run due north to due south. The island is slightly slanted to the East. So when you walk up 5th Avenue, you actually head northeast instead of due north like you would think. Ssssh! Don't tell anyone though or you might be the enemy of many pedestrians. New Yorkers have adapted faithful directions to fit their needs.]

So get out New Yorkers, out I say! Then come back. Don't forget to share your renewed perspectives with me. Remember, you can only really appreciate what you have until you see both what you and others are missing out on.