There is a certain ‘je n’est ce quoi’ about the feeling, the scent, the touch of New York; it is alive, and rampant as though, at times, one could pick it up and carry it around with them. Bountiful glory, where the melting pot of America has somehow mixed, melded and fused into some sort of wonderful bouillabase, energetic and well, each lingering mouthful containing broken bread shared with friends, real and imagined.
From the ‘hello beautiful’ s that fill the crisp air of an autumn morning, to the endless dog walkers that march tirelessly at all times of day or night, returning your smile as the little Frenchies or Bassets make you giggle, searching for a tree to sniff in midtown concrete, happiness abounds.
Two days from now America will rest it’s collective conscience on the shoulders of it’s next President. A president that will be catapulted into a mix that is far from inviting. A mix of financial crisis’, healthcare despondence, unnecessary poverty, and illegal wars. Can the flavour of this New York borrough take America and inject the ‘mix’ that will be necessary to steer this wayward ship back to greatness, fairness, equality and international respect? Let’s hope so.