I Happen To Like New York

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In early 2016, after twenty two years in New York City, I began to wonder if I still wanted to live here. By September of that year, I had made my decision and began planning my departure. By November, I was in my hometown of Cleveland, determined to build a new life there. 

Within the next two years, I learned that Thom Wolfe was right: You can’t go home again. In some ways for the better, and in some ways not for the better, Cleveland had changed in the nearly 30 years since I’d lived there. Despite Cleveland’s wonderful affordability, incredible accessibility, and tragically undervalued and underrated lakefront geography, I found myself missing a certain energy, drive, and curiosity that only New York can give. But not only had Cleveland changed. I had changed, too. After giving Cleveland an earnest go, I took the first opportunity that enabled me to come back to New York.

Since returning at the start of 2020 (just in time for the pandemic), I see New York through different lenses than I had before. I look at the city with more appreciation and gratitude, probably because I had lost it once. I don’t take it for granted anymore.

Living in New York isn’t a right. It’s a privilege. I don’t pay a stupid amount of money every month to live in a small one-bedroom. I pay to live in New York, the one city in the United States that does not suffer from an inferiority complex. It is HQ – a world capital – for so much: business, finance, art, fashion, theater, media, entertainment, design, hospitality, travel, shopping… It’s got the biggest big dick energy of all the cities.

Yes, we all know New York is expensive. It takes money to merely get by here, let alone be comfortable. But that’s part of the game. You’ve got to really bring something to the party. If you weren’t born into it or if you didn’t marry it, you have to work for it. That’s the challenge. Whether you manage a hedge fund or a coffee shop, whether you run a fashion empire or tend bar, whether you renovate townhouses or repair shoes, New York requires you to be among the best. 

And what do we get for this struggle? Access. If I had to choose one word that summed up New York, it would be access. Whether it’s a new movie, a new show, an art exhibit, an amazing new (or very old) restaurant, a hot scene, a cool vibe… we have access to whatever. Wanna go to the beach? It’s within two hours. Wanna go skiing? It’s within two hours. Wanna go to the country or the mountains? It’s within two hours. 

I kick myself every day that I get to live a half block from Central Park. My backyard is 1.3 square miles of glorious green space with an iconic reservoir and a cute little lake in the middle of it. I don’t have to cut the grass, rake the leaves, maintain the trees, or shovel the snow. It’s all included in the cost of living here. 

Then there’s the unrivaled mix of things. You can walk a city block and hear five different languages. You can eat a different cuisine every night for a month and not repeat. In a single subway car, you’ll share a ride with a wider range of cultures, ethnicities, backgrounds, religions, styles, gender identifications, etc., than you would encounter in an entire year (or lifetime) somewhere else. New York is the anti-bubble, which is one of its superpowers. 

A free gift with purchase? We can access all of this without owning a car. With trains, buses, cabs, Uber, bicycles, and walking, New Yorkers manage to create a carbon footprint that is over 70% lower than their suburban and rural counterparts. 

Back in January 2020, when I left my stunning, amenity-loaded, 1,000 sq ft loft apartment in Downtown Cleveland for a 385 sq ft converted hotel room on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, I cried. I cried because I was back in the city where I belonged. The city that felt like home. And the only city I know how to live in.

I love this town.

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