For the last two weeks I have come to work dwelling on the remembrance of a more innocent time for me. As a child, Manhattan was the place I always wanted to be. It was a short ride away from home to an endless play land of culture, attractions and endless sights right in my own backyard in New York.
I come from a very sheltered background. My parents made their best efforts to keep from a lot of things in society, especially New York that they deemed unfit for my child/adolescent self to partake in. One major thing I can remember being sheltered from was the heart of New York City; the beautiful island of Manhattan. Manhattan operates at a much faster pace than other places in New York, complete with large uncaring crowds and tourists from all over the world. As a kid from a smaller town in Queens, I wasn’t very street savvy so going into Manhattan always felt like a dream to me. I can remember the excitement of riding the subway and standing in the middle of Times Square, going to early morning concerts in Bryant Park, attending my first Broadway show and eating my first meal at the Starlight Diner. All of the memories were more special than the next, now they feel so distant from my heart as a result everyday routine. It bothers me that I have lost the innocent love for this beautiful city. They say New York is a place where dreams are made; a small part of me will always believe in that.
Looking back on it now as an adult who has worked in Manhattan and commuted to the city for five long years, I miss the feeling of wonderment. I feel slightly jaded by the fact that I have been working on this island for so long and lost the wonderment I once felt. What used to be exciting seems like a regular day in the neighborhood for me. Old age has made me think, made me reflect and appreciate the simpler times that life and this beautiful city has provided me. Maybe as time passes, I’ll capture that feeling again but for now I’ll miss my younger view of you Manhattan. You were a castle to this Queens bred kid.