My girlfriend Rebecca recently mentioned that she wished she'd gotten to see my apartment and life up here in NYC. I told her about this grand new invention called the airplane that could actually take her from anywhere in the world to just about anywhere else in the world. Who knew?!? Sarcasm aside, she had a point.
I've chronicled my life while traveling over the past few years, but have neglected my life when it's just that. Life.
I live on a street made up of mostly subsidized housing.
There's a senior facility across the street with 24-hour security. One of the guys who works there is my friend in particular. We wave and smile.
And then there's Theresa. I'm not sure what she's on, generally speaking, but it's usually something. She lives two doors down and is always out on her stoop in the summer. She's quite friendly and inquires about my kids (of which I have none...at least not at the time of writing).
Across the street next to the senior facility is a squattors' building. A couple of years back, someone living there rigged up electricity into the building that started a fire. A few days later the city condemned the building and forced everyone out. In the past few months, like most of the city's "affordable" housing, the building is being renovated for surely luxury condos. I still can't imagine why anyone would pay $1.2 mill for a one bedroom essentially on Avenue D. The housing and mortgage crisis has yet to affect this city. Here's my bet for the next new luxury residential address for New Yorkers: 11 Wall Street!
A quiet so rare, blissful.
