New York, New York! The city so nice, they had to name it twice. It has a lot to recommend it, of that there is no doubt, at least it did over all of the years that I lived there, covering every minute of the 1950s and 1960s, and half of the 1970s. I've been gradually losing track since then, and by now I hardly recognize the place.
One's experience of a thing depends to a great extent on point-of-view. For a young child who is trapped in a shitty neighborhood without amenities beyond a decent park and a few good pizza places, New York was a mediocre place at best. As my horizons expanded, New York revealed itself to be the greatest city on earth. Now I'd have to add the caveat: if you can afford it. Even for run-of-the-mill stuff, like ball games, the museums, the tolls on the bridges, Broadway shows, the fares on public transportation, the prices have all risen to eye-watering levels. Everything now is priced for the rich. Geezers like me, however, remember a time when everything was priced so that a young, working class lad like me, could easily take his young bride to a very nice restaurant once in a while, the occasional Broadway show was easily affordable, and the city was full of world-class attractions that were either cheap or free.
I'm going to tackle these one at a time. The New York of my early childhood, and the New York of my salad-days. What happened after about the 1980s is none of my business. But if you ask me, Satan was involved.
To Be Continued.
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