If you know me personally, you probably realize that walking the streets of New York with my headphones on is already a part of my routine. I hope this fact is not seen as a cop-out for blogging material. As they say, you write what you know, and the best part about this project is that I am learning as I go, seconds before sharing my new knowledge with you. New York is a bottomless treasure trove begging to be explored and I am excited to take this passion of mine to a communal level. I want to give these historic places more room for recognition.
I generally refrain from pinning anything resembling praise onto the name Woody Allen, whose personal life I cannot begin to approximate next to the wealth of success he has gained as a filmmaker. But I love his love of Manhattan, and the way he puts New York into words--or rather, how he fails to. I leave you with the following opening lines from the film titled after our beloved borough, Manhattan:
Isaac Davis: Chapter One. He adored New York City. He idolized it all out of proportion. Eh uh, no, make that he, he romanticized it all out of proportion. Better. To him, no matter what the season was, this was still a town that existed in black and white and pulsated to the great tunes of George Gershwin. Uh, no, let me start this over.
Isaac Davis: Chapter One: He was too romantic about Manhattan, as he was about everything else. He thrived on the hustle bustle of the crowds and the traffic. To him, New York meant beautiful women and street smart guys who seemed to know all the angles. Ah, corny, too corny for, you know, my taste. Let me, let me try and make it more profound.
Isaac Davis: Chapter One: He adored New York City. To him it was a metaphor for the decay of contemporary culture. The same lack of individual integrity that caused so many people to take the easy way out was rapidly turning the town of his dreams in - no, it's gonna be too preachy, I mean, you know, let's face it, I wanna sell some books here.
Isaac Davis: Chapter One: He adored New York City. Although to him it was a metaphor for the decay of contemporary culture. How hard it was to exist in a society desensitized by drugs, loud music, television, crime, garbage - too angry. I don't want to be angry.
Isaac Davis: Chapter One. He was as tough and romantic as the city he loved. Behind his black-rimmed glasses was the coiled sexual power of a jungle cat. Oh, I love this. New York was his town, and it always would be.
Words may fail me, as they did Isaac Davis, but thankfully some of the great artists of our time put their own praises to music. And I want to show you the city that inspired them.
