John M. Scalzi's Weekend Assignment #146: I [Insert Personal Feeling Here] New York

John relates the following, “Look, it's the Flatiron building, one of the iconic buildings in New York City and also where I will be spending at least part of my day today, talking to editors, having meetings and otherwise being all grown-up and writery and stuff. The Flatiron is also a suitable introduction for this week's Weekend Assignment, which, since I happen to be in town, is about the Big Apple:” “Weekend Assignment #146: New York -- America's largest and most important city. What are your thoughts about it? We're not all from New York, of course, but the city looms large in our collective consciousness. It's that whole "if you can make it there" thing. So share some of your thoughts about New York, whether it's an opinion about the city, a memory of a visit there, a screed on why you hate it and everything it stands for (if you're a Red Sox fan) -- anything, as long as New York, New York is the subject.” Extra Credit: “New York Yankees: Love em or hate em?”

My experiences of New York City began in the late '50's and continued throughout the '60's and early '70's, With minor exceptions and unintentional wrong turns (really) I have managed to physically avoid NYC ever since. It is an awesome city, a melting pot of peoples and cultures unlike any other in the world. It's so alive. It's absolutely the center of Western Business Civilization. I truly believe in the song lyric that “if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere.”

It is also a city without a heart, almost soulless. It is a monument to colossal greed, tasteless extravagance, populated by crass nouveau riche social climbers and mindless sycophants to the likes of Donald Trump, political lackeys to Rudy Guiliani and others of similar ilk, dyspeptic UN diplomats who cannot lift themselves from their lethargy to pay parking tickets, and vermin of all sorts that stands on eight, six, four, three, two and no legs. It is a filthy city, as cities go. I have been mugged there twice; I have no love for New York thugs and criminals. I've broken bread with gangsters and newspaper reporters, with laborers and less and more at eateries of all types and all prices. I've strolled Park Avenue in a top hat and tails, I've coaxed vessels to give one more erg, struggling against the current of the East River. I've jockeyed fifty-five foot rigs into some of the worst loading docks in the world in New York. I've fed peanuts to squirrels in Central Park on a warm spring day with a pretty girl. I've hoisted sack after hundred pound sack of raw peanuts bound for the hungry co-operatives of northern new england in Hell's Kitchen. I've feared for my life, load and truck when turned around in the Fort Apache area of the Bronx. Seen a truck hijacked in front of me on the BQE. Failed to recognize a jumper situation on the Brooklyn Bridge one cold winters night. Stepped around the homeless sleeping on steam grates numerous times, sometimes convinced they were dead from the odors lifting off them. Heard shots fired in all five boroughs and two counties of Long Island. Ridden all of the subway lines and almost all of the passenger railroads that depart NYC to the North and South. Flown in and out of La Guardia, JFK and Newark airports. Ridden more cabs and buses than I care to remember.

Through it all, every time I've been in the city I find myself staring in awe at the architecture, the monuments and memorials, and most of all, at the people. I may hate all cities and New York in particular, but I'm in awe of its residents.

Long live New York.

Extra Credit:: I'm a Red Sox fan. Like all Red Sox fans, I hate the New York Yankees with a vehemence bordering upon white hot insanity.