stop the kvetching

And be happy it’s quiet here for a while.
Maybe Woody Allen would agree with me that being in New York City on a Thanksgiving day it’s as close to ecstasy as one can get.
There is you, the fall leaves stroking the side walks rhythmically tuned to the wind, the occasional taxi driving by and a whole lot of silence.
It almost feels something is missing.
Unusually quiet on this side of the world.
But then again this is when I felt in love with New York all over again.
I was at the corner of 23rd and 6th at 9am on a Thursday. I just walked out of the subway and there was nobody around me I could almost hear my own thoughts.
Can I have more of it please? Maybe a dose a week?
I walked by the giant new Italian supermarket EATLY: no lines, no coffees to be served, doors not even open. It felt like the armageddon had passed by and disintegrated all the soil beneath it while getting rid of all the people.
Do not get me wrong, I like people, but New York City has got way too many, I think it could easily use a skinny diet, or maybe just 10 more Thanksgiving days a year. That would do!
So that we could all fall in love with the New York of sunsets from the Brooklyn bridge, the New York of Sunday times magazine read at a corner beagle shop with a hot cup of java in one hand and the best creme cheese and locks you have ever tasted in the other. That same New York of bike rides and long runs in Central park where all you can hear is your foot-steps and the sound of the squirrel eating nuts from a tree.
Not the crazy metropolis where everyone has to do what’s on the “to-do list” for the day and care more than less about who stands in his/her way to get that accomplished.
The New York of the summer plays in the park, the New York of the night subway fumes coloring the grey skies. The same New York City where you may find 10 different people from 11 different country at your dinner table at a random photography gathering in the lower west side.
So, stop the kvetching about the traffic jams you found on the highway on your way to see the grandparents and staff your face with the bird, its gravy and a bunch of stuffing. There are people in the City who are so grateful you were indeed all gone so that New York transformed its monstrous megalopolis face to the one of a domesticated cat responding to all of your requests and many more without even asking to be petted.
Let’s keep it this way. I vote to boycott the highways and occupy Manhattan with the few we got here!

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