Red brick makes up a multitude of New York. For generations strangers have shared the confines of layer upon layer of brick and called them home. This is the sort of common experience that bonds New Yorkers. This is my apartment building.
Riding for minutes or hours inside, above, and around the ground from one land mass to another is a New York routine. A little conversation always makes it nicer.
The simple pleasures of delicious food (especially the best maduros in Queens) are a special part of a New Yorker’s community.
This is the other KFC, the one you only know about of you’re willing to leave Manhattan, it’s our dirty little secret (it actually tastes better) .
Your neighborhood, my neighborhood, the little shops, and colors, and people, and art that make up an area. When you see this, you know instinctively home is not far away.
Entertainment…as though life weren’t funny enough. Sometimes the only release from the boiling, surging emotions of New York…Laugh it out.
Like every other part of New York everything is for everyone, and culture runs thick and intertwines in the most mundane and most exiting places.
Travel is again a constant in the busy, chaotic world of the boroughs.
One often needs to relax in new and familiar places. A burger at 4am Sunday morning, no questions asked, few other cities support their night owls so well.
Returning to a home away from home. The street signs will always be there though, as if to say, “this way’s nice, of course that ways very nice too…” Which, when one’s in New York is usually true.