My love affair with the metropoli of the world started with New York. "Friends" and "Seinfeld" introduced me to the idea that great friends and romance was certain within its limits. You've Got Mail further confirmed that New York was merely a small town on a large scale, a quaint community of people where connections were never that far away. Love was inevitable for Kathleen Kelly and Joe Fox, so by means of assumption, love is inevitable to all who sought after it.Baz Luhrmann begged radio listeners in 1999 to:
"Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard;
Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft."
Having already lived in and left Northern California, it's only natural for me to want to balance the equation. My soft milk chocolate center needs a hard candy shell.
My love affair continued to expand as I took my first trip to Chicago in 2002. Here, the landscape of the modern American city was first introduced to me. I rode my first subway here, commuting with the people of the city as if one of them. There was a rhythm that they had. They moved about the streets and subway stations as if they were maneuvering a limb; naturally and gracefully. I wanted so badly to blend in and become just another Chicagoan. My toursity eyes most likely gave me away, as I was in constant awe of my surroundings, but I did my best. For a brief moment, I think I became one with the streets, criss-crossing them like a seasoned pro. The buildings overshadowed me, and for the first time, my apparent grandeur was greatly reduced to nothing. I was humbled by their size and presence, and it changed me forever. Sears Tower still remains the highest building I've ever been in, and while a mild waste of time, the view from the top was spectacular to behold. Here I felt the pulse of the city, seeing on a grand scale exactly how things moved. I was awe struck.
A year later in 2003, I had the immense privilege of moving to Paris. While in height and size, Paris cannot compare to the cities of America, Paris became so much more than a simple tourist hotspot. I naturally did all of the necessary tourist attractions, taking in as much as I could. But soon, it wasn't about that. Soon, Paris became about the side streets, the metros, the trees in the fall, winter and spring, and the people. While I still stood in awe many many times of the great cathedral of Notre Dame in the heart of the city, or of the lights of the city as I stood on Pont Neuf overlooking the Seine, there was a different kind of beauty that I saw while sitting on my balcony each night, sipping herbal tea, and just taking deep breaths. I remember those moments almost more vividly than those I spent in the Louvre, or on the Eiffel Tower. I remember the sounds, the smells, the chill in the air. Paris has a rhythm, much like Chicago, and I could feel it on those nights. I could see it from my balcony, with cars passing every second without fail and people still enjoying the sights at ten o' clock at night. Our balcony overlooked several restaurants , and when spring hit, and those tables were moved outside, I was privy to one of the most fantastic of sights in Paris: the café . My balcony soon became front row center to the most fascinating anthropology experiment I've ever conducted. Watching people eat and drink became hypnotic and amusing.
The metros served as another place to experience the people. So much can be said about the mass transit system in Paris. It's effective, yet consistently crowded. It's rare to ever sit down, and its also rare to never have to shove your way out once you have to leave. More often than not, you are shoved in between a mass of 25 people, each with distinctive body odors, whether its cologne, perfume or nothing at all. Human contact is inevitable while on the metros, and that's what gives it its charms. In the city, we sense that loneliness and a feeling of being lost would most likely consume us as we walked the crowded streets. But, I never felt that while in Paris. I felt a part of something bigger than myself, and I felt that each person I made physical contact with in the most arbitrary ways was a part of that something as well. There's a uniqueness to the urban touch that cannot be felt in smaller towns, and while strange and uncomfortable, I sometimes wish I could have it back.I can't explain my feelings in the manner that is most convincing. My experiences in Chicago, and most importantly in Paris have led me to believe I was born to live a city life. I never felt more at home than I did while I was living in Paris. I still refer to it as my hometown, because I've never experience more separation anxiety with anywhere else that I've lived. I cried like a baby when I had to leave, and it was like pulling teeth to get me to stop talking about it after I had. My heart beats to the same fast paced rhythm that exists in these cities. I get a thrill from walking quickly down a crowded street, or from running onto the loud buzzing subway train, squeezing tightly between two larger people. I love how after time, the sounds of the streets become silent, and all you hear is your own thoughts. You grow to ignore the noise, and you learn to embrace it.
I long to move to New York. I have since I could remember. I will move there. It's inevitable for me to eventually find myself on the streets of Manhattan. It's where I belong. I see myself married there, married to a woman equally as in tune with the city streets as I am. I see ourselves frequenting the opera or the symphony at Lincoln Center, or the hot new show on Broadway. I see us dancing slowly at a dimly lit jazz club. I envision all of this because I cannot shake it. I cannot see myself living in a house in the suburbs. I only see myself in a Brownstone, kids in tow, and a beautiful wife to boot. It may all sounds unrealistic and completely outrageous, but I refuse to dream moderately. Such an idea is almost an oxymoron. How can we ever expect to hit the target if we never aim high?
So this is my wish, to one day feel the rhythm of the city again at my feet. I feel like a piece of me is missing since I left Paris. I'd give anything to return there and feel what I felt once again, but realistically, that may not happen. New York, however, can. While as of now it is uncertain whether I'll find myself enamored with it as I was once with Paris, I cannot sit idly by and assume that I won't. As someone once said, "You get what you settle for", and I can't resolve myself to give up hope that a life more full is available elsewhere. For if we have no more to hope for, than we certainly have nothing to live for.
