That Old Song

What I’ll miss: New Year’s Eve
I know I just said I won’t miss tourists, but nothing is quite like the phenomenon of one million people standing in Times Square waiting to ring in the New Year, or the thousands of parties around the city watching it on television. I might actually be in Utah on New Year’s Eve, and I know I’ll be looking at my former home and wondering where everyone is or how they’re anticipating the rest of their lives. I miss it already.

What I won’t miss: Dirty snow and unjumpable puddles
I love when a fresh blanket of snow covers the city overnight, and it softens the noise and makes everything look brighter, but once the plows come through and traffic awakes and turns the snow into mud slushies, it’s gross, and I feel like spitting. I’m done.

I love summer rains and the fresh and cooler air it brings, and even how the clouds and I even seem to bond as we perspire together, but summer doesn’t even seem like summer when you fear catching a diseaseĀ from jumping in a puddle. When it rains, all the city fluids combine and the drains become sewers above ground, turning us all into grumpy, 9-to-5, scurrying, mangy-haired rats. All I want is a fresh, clean puddle.

A little discussion.

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