Photo by Tom McCavera
Times Square: the center of the universe–the place to see the lights and feel the pulse of the city that never sleeps. New York’s crossroads of the world for people of all types. That is, except New Yorkers.
For most New Yorkers, Times Square is to be avoided at all costs. On any given day, snap-happy tourists block intersections, middle-aged women and gay boys fawn over a naked cowboy, and a Midwestern high-school theatre troupe twitters while singing Rent in five part harmony… directly in front of the subway entrance. None are contributors to a smooth morning commute!
New Yorkers are busy. They have places to go, people to see and tourists to trample. Yet most New Yorkers are transplants. They are natives of Bora Bora, Wisconsin and everywhere in between. And at one time, the junction of Broadway and Seventh Avenue was a magical place. It embodied the dreams, the drive and the promise that only this city can offer: “If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere.”
So maybe there is value to revisiting an old friend. Grab an overpriced, Soy Chai Latte at any of the warring Starbucks within a 10 foot radius; sit in the newly unveiled pedestrian mall; and you might remember that you really are “nuts for nuts”, that a Christmas sweater can still keep you warm in February, and that, once upon a time, a younger version of yourself couldn’t stop singing along with little orphan Annie.
And perhaps your big city blues might just start melting away.
