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One of the most startling differences between New York City and most other places is the life at night. It is late at night, you are alone, and perhaps you are in need of some human companionship. Step out into the streets of New York City and see signs of activity everywhere.
My family loves the city and has visited on a regular basis. At one time, they would camp out in my living room. My mother was fascinated with all the activity. She would stand, stare out my window, and exclaim, “Look at them go. They don’t stop going. They go all night.” As if it was one person or one group with insomnia who patrol the city 24/7, perhaps to die of exhaustion. The city never sleeps, however, individuals do – but why tell her that when she was having so much fun?
Visiting my family in Bristol, CT, and driving the streets on a Sunday or especially on a Saturday evening before returning home, I was astounded as to how dead this suburban town of over 60,000 could be – it was a virtual ghost town with nary a person in sight.
Two hours later and back home, particularly in the summer, I would find Manhattan mobbed. In the Village, I would encounter bumper-to-bumper traffic jams. Reflecting back on the town I had just left, it was impossible to fathom – after every trip, I would question my memory of the town I had left.
Of course, I realize that it is unfair to compare the two places, but nonetheless, it was the extreme contrast that to this day still astounds me. Driving through that suburban town where almost no one walks the streets and there are no cafes and no signs of life at all at night, minus perhaps a gas station or all night convenience store. That is why the discovery of the Tangerine Dream coffee house in high school was nothing short of a miracle.
I was once discussing all these matters with a friend, now living in the city, who for a time lived in a neighboring town in CT. He can be rather caustic and blunt with his opinions – in this case, his response was that the “suburbs are death.” Dislike of the suburbs is one of the most commonly shared feelings you will find in this city.
If you are a visitor, you may never be privy to this sentiment. A polite person will show due respect, and a reasonable person is aware that there are different strokes for different folks and that the city is not to everyone’s liking. And, admittedly, there are tremendous conveniences of living in the suburbs. See my story of Dwanna here.
My parents no longer live in Bristol, but from time to time, I still like to pass through for nostalgic reasons. On a bleak winter night, I am intrigued by the deadly quiet. Soon I will be home, where, if I want to see human activity, I will only need to step out onto to the streets or even just peer out my window, and any time, day or night, I can Look at Them Go…
Photo Note: The photos were taken at 10 PM at Union Square – a major subway hub, a nexus of streets, and a major shopping district. The area is active day and night. The lower photo is of the mezzanine cafe at Whole Foods Market.
Don’t you see the rest of the country looks upon New York City like we’re left-wing, communist, Jewish, homosexual pornographers? I think of us that way sometimes and I live here. –Woody Allen as Alvy Singer from his 1977 film Annie Hall
