No matter how idyllic one finds life in the little city, sometimes you need a dose of life in the big city. So the family took a trip to New York to kick off spring break. It was like most of our trips to New York, with lots of love for the city and amazing little moments, and plenty of frustration: Ted’s awe at the Guggenheim (he’s a Frank Lloyd Wright fan, go figure), the quiet of Sunday morning in the city, breaking Passover with Joe’s Pizza in the Village, malts at the Lexington Candy Store, and happening upon a rehearsal of A Midsummer Night’s Dream in Washington Square Park. There was also too much walking, too much whining, and too many problematic meal choices.
As always, New York inspired a host of questions. Feel free to answer them. Or pose more.
Who are all these people? How did they get here? (If I had my way, everyone in the city would walk around with a bubble over their heads—à la Pop Up Video—noting who they are, where they are from, and how they came to be in the city at that moment.)
How can anyone afford to live in New York City?
How can there be enough rich people to fill all of those high-rise apartments, especially the ridiculous number of Trump Towers along the Henry Hudson Parkway?
Why do so many of them drive Porsches?
Why are there so many Porsche SUVs?
What kind of idiot drives an SUV in NYC?
What happens if there is a car accident? Does the whole city come to a standstill? It seems pretty clear that if one car stops for more than 3 minutes, all traffic stops everywhere.
How did my teenager get obsessed with high-end shoes, high-end headphones, and high-end cars?
With so many churches, bakeries, and gelato shops, how come everyone isn’t devout and/or fat?
How do those women walk more than ten feet in those shoes?
How do you do anything without getting totally overwhelmed by the options?
Where do all of the waiters and baristas, et al. live? They can’t possibly afford to live in the city.
Why is everyone speaking French?