A Confession

I would like to share with my loyal readers (can you say, party of one!) that I finally bit the bullet and paid for a digital subscription to the New York Times.

I’m not sure what made me leave my cheap, sorry a*s ways behind…

…Perhaps it was the squeeze that the Times put on me, that proverbial wide open field of access that then slowed to a painful trickle – it amounted to suffocation.  First I could only read 20 stories a month, then five – GASP.  Please know that I went to great lengths to expand my access…there were the articles I read on my work computer, followed by the articles I read on my iPad.  I can’t tell you the anxiety that I would feel when the ticker would suddenly pop-up at the bottom of the page telling me that I only had two articles left for the month and it was only the second day of the month.  They were on to me.

…OR maybe it was that frightening article that I was glued to on Monday about psychopathy in children, juxtapose that with an article about 30-something women whose grandparents are chipping in to help them freeze their eggs (can you say, pass the collection plate) – what can I say?  I like reading bizzaro stories that scare the sh*t out of me.

The fact that I work in the publishing business and was being such a cheapskate is beyond me.  I guess it’s hard to break old habits.

The crazy thing is that I lived in NYC for four years and rarely read the Times, however, when I left the city the Times was such a vivid reminder of my New York life.  The Arts and Style section of the Times gave me funk, the funk I missed from my Fort Greene neighborhood (it doesn’t get better than Fort Greene Brooklyn on a sunny day, sipping an adult beverage and enjoying tasty morsels from Habana Outpost).  The business section reminded me of Broadway and the Avenue of the Americas area, and the NY Region section has always painted a broad picture of what it’s like to be a New Yorker.

People ask me if I miss NYC and I tell them that I don’t miss it from a longing standpoint, for me, the city definitely had an expiration date.  However I look back on my time in NYC with fond memories.  I don’t so much miss the city as I miss who I was while I was there – young, twenty-something, and as my ole man would say “full of piss and vinegar.”

Every time I read the NY Times it reminds me of my connection to the city and the fact that I made it there, therefore I can make it anywhere.

Peace.

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One thought on “A Confession

  1. You know I love this one! I look back on those times with the fondest memories and a massive amount of pride that I not only lived but strived there….we can truly make it anywhere! Great post girly! Now with your mention of Habana, I’m craving that corn!!!!!!!! Lol

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