Every fall, I move down to Manhattan to work out of our offices here. Normally, Jennifer and I move into our apartment that is right near Central park, on the dividing line between midtown and the upper west side.
We were planning this year to have all three of us out here, but with our young miss being so sick, we had to change our plans.
So now, Jennifer and Evangeline are at our house in Nova Scotia, near the doctors and healthcare that we need right now. And I am spending weekdays living in New York and commuting back to Nova Scotia on Friday night, only to return Monday morning. It is not ideal, but at least our child is getting appropriate healthcare that our taxes pay for while I work to make the mortgage money.
There is a radical difference between my weekday life in Manhattan and the weekend living in Fall River. From the big city to the big country, about every snippet of life from either location is a contrast. Needless to say, I much prefer the air in Fall River. In fact, that is what strikes me the most about New York, the smells... Many things contribute to it, living surrounded by trees and fresh air when I am at home means that smog and exhaust are even more noticeable. But the biggest contributor to the smell in NYC is because of a city ordinance.
You see, it is illegal to smoke indoors in NYC. No restaurants, no office buildings, no clubs, nowhere. So the 30% of the population that does smoke is forced to go outside to feed the addiction. The result of this is that all along the sidewalks, on both sides (street and building) are people standing around smoking. they don't stand in the middle, so as not to get run over. But to a non smoker, it is like running the gauntlet. And in NYC, everybody walks. You move around the city by walking or riding the subway. So by the time that I get from the subway station to the front door of our office building, there is the faint smell of Marlboro's on my clothes. If it is raining, it gets much worse. The sidewalks are then clear, but the smokers all huddle around every entrance to every deli or office building to get away from the cigarette dousing rain. So to get lunch, or a coffee or to get to the revolving door of our office building, I have to run though the industrial club fogger fueled by Winston lights.... It is like Phantom of the opera some mornings, with the added pleasure of trapping a massive whiff of second hand smoke inside the revolving door while I pass from the street into the office building. It reminds me of the heady days of bar hopping, and coming home smelling like the ass end of an ash tray... Blah...
Now I did not mean to get off on a rant, but I had to vent somewhere... The only thing that I hate about the Big Apple besides the fact that it has taken me away from my family is the smell..
But we do love the city.... Can't wait for the girls to be well enough to come with me.
