by Sam Juliano
The city is a bustling place, intimidating and congested, and an unwelcome panacea for privacy and meditation. Living there takes on nightmarish proportions, as people are always frantically rushing to be somewhere at a specific time. Streets are inhabited by a mass of business people, vendors, cultural mavens, musicians and bicyclists, all either camped out on sidewalks or public parks, and heading in all directions. Tourists enter and exit cabs, blending in with the flow, taking long and short glimpses at places gazed at for the very first time. People who visit the city are sometimes kind enough to remark that it is such a great place to visit, but “I sure as heck would never want to live there.” After all, the city is so big and so enveloping, that it sets the rules and the pacing, rather than the other way around. The city never sleeps and its sounds are deafening. The needy and the homeless hang out on street corners, and panhandlers ply their craft, intruding on already violated privacy. Construction seems to be going on at every other corner, and the visually bombastic signs of graffiti artists are ever cognizant at every turn. There is no such thing as a one-family house in the city – everyone lives in tall apartment buildings. The rooms shake as a result of rushing railway trains. A young boy is exasperated that his beloved Nana calls this melting pot of frantic activity her home. Surely she would rather have some peace and comfort in her later years. Surely she must recognize there is major inconvenience every day and some dangerous possibilities with such a feverish lifestyle. (more…)