Countrify-Me: Confessions of a Thru-Yorker

I think New Yorkers come in two flavors: True-Yorkers and Thru-Yorkers.

Until last fall, when I traded in my rent-stabilized Brooklyn Heights apartment for a Rocky Mountain house share, I could have sworn I was True. Just like you, perhaps?

True-Yorkers move to the city to "find their purpose," like the groovy kids in Avenue Q. Errant blossoms in their hometowns, fueled by formerly-impossible dreams, they sink their helpfully-toughened roots into Manhattan's schist and bloom.

Thru-Yorkers were wimpy-ass wimps. And not in the astrophysically cool sense of the word. By choosing to exit the City outside a coffin or urn, Thru-Yorkers waved a white flag before the City's Struggle To Be, I thought.

And for my first 24 years in the city, a life without struggle seemed unsuccessful to me.

Like a lot of potential True-Yorkers, I arrived after college. I was broke, but happy to be living in the gritty city that inspired The Taking of Pelham of 1,2,3!

I dreamed of writing novels. But sensible adults didn't write books. Sensible adults succeeded. So I began to write about the Why's of fashion, instead. A few years later, I began telling true city stories on stage. My apartment building in Brooklyn was full of wonderful characters. My neighborhood-at-large blended history with daily magic.

True-Yorkers had great city stories, too. "This is the rooftop where I had sex with that skinhead. Then we went out for bagels," one friend told me. His smile celebrated his urban Trifecta: the indecent exposure; the requited lust; the lox.

Having been ridiculed for being different, the True-Yorkers I knew embraced difference on others. But their tolerance stalled at True-Yorkism itself.

One night, my friends and I attended a party in a fancy apartment.

"Some day," my friends said, "We'll live in a place like this!"

"Some day, I'll live in the country with a man and a dog!" I said.

"Um," my friends said. "Well."

"I'm going to be the new Martha Stewart!" a woman told me in an urban chick Dream Fulfillment class.

"I'm going to live in the country with a man and a dog!" I said.

"Ew," the new Martha Stewart said.

Every time I spoke about my country dream I felt as if I was finding it for the first time. How and when and where it would happen, who knew? Dreams were future stuff. For now, I was writing my novel. The book was set in a fictional, True-York where the uncool kids ruled as quirkly delighted adults.

When I finished the book, I was happy, and broke. It was a lot like arriving in New York for the second time. But this time, I didn't need to succeed. I'd done it by writing the book of my dreams. There was just one problem: without the city struggle To Be, who was I -- and why was I here?

In college, I'd memorized the opening lines of Dante's Inferno. My subway rides began feeling like that. I was lost in a dark place, mid-life. The lease on my office and my apartment were up.

What if? I thought. And then, why not? And then...oh my God, why didn't I think of this before?

Three weeks later my dog and I were living in a country house with three guys I met on Craigslist.

I wasn't thinking about my dream as I packed to move. But my Inner Shopper had gotten the Memo about my move months before my soul. How else to explain the yellow headlamp, the pink fleece LL Bean jacket with reflective trim and the lug-soled, rhinestone-studded cowboy boots I'd bought from a store in Oklahoma?

I laughed as I looked at them. I hadn't laughed in years.

As an aspiring Tru-Yorker, I thought of success as a contract. A lover. A lease.

But here in the mountains, I've re-thought that idea. Perhaps success - for me - is the opposite of achievement: peace.

The Brooklyn Me suffered from insomnia. In my new home, I sleep through night. My dog has a new doggie sister. I'm starting to write another book, as part of a caring community of writers.

No place is perfect - internally or geographically. Wherever you go, as the saying goes, there you are. And both of me -- the old Thru-Yorker and the New Rocky Mountain Chick live here.

Last night, flipping through New York Magazine, I saw a former City Friend had been pronounced Playwright of the Year. Natalie Portman just optioned her work for the movies.

I felt a searing twinge of jealousy. And then, the twinge passed.

I haven't quit the idea of success entirely. But I've stopped chasing it, to give it a chance to find me.

If that sounds like countrified Kumbaya, well, I've always been a Kumbaya kid at heart.

Good things await me here, as sure as the Mountains. For me, the Truest way from here to there, where I am now, is Thru.

Comments

[NABNYC]

If you've ever been around (usually) men who have been in a war, they share some psychological bond simply because of what they did. Even if they were in different places in the war, different branches of the military, had different jobs. They're still a band of brothers.

Moving to NYC is like the national bat mitzvah, or the sweet 16, or the anthropological war- painted young men journeying into unknown territory to hunt their first boar or deer. It is a ritual for young people in this country. I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

I think it tends to be the talented and ambitious. When I moved to NYC right out of college I was going to be a writer. But everyone I met was creative and talented: some political, organizers, union people, dancers, painters, poets, musicians. What a wonderful time.

And you don't ever leave NYC, not really. It becomes a part of your DNA unlike other places I've lived. You get a Zabars notch, a little marker for the subway, a twist for the green beer on St. Patricks day. I'm sure if they compared the blood of everyone who has lived in NYC, particularly in their youth, they found a different breed, possibly mutants, but lots of fun and very talented.

Like the saying goes: I Love New York.

[Nommo]

You meant "nosh", did you not?

[MajorKong]

Columbus, Ohio certainly isn't paradise, but I rather enjoy my $89,000 mortgage and my 20-minute commute. I can buy a lot of airline tickets to the east coast for what I'm saving on cost of living.

[larry278]

Yes, but you still come back to Columbus, Ohio at the eastern part of fly over country-don't you? That can't be called living...in New York City, can it? There was only one James Thurber & neither of us are clones of Thurber or living in his era. Such is life for the less than ambitious. I don't regret leaving NY after 6 weeks on the Lower East Side & 6 months on Crown Heights in a sublet of a rent control apartment. It was fun learning that I couldn't make it NY. Regardless of the words of a Sinatra Standard, "...if you can make it in NY, NY you can make it anywhere...". There is life on the East Coast, aka the shitty side.
I've spent my life living on the shitty side for I couldn't bear the thought of living in fly over country 24/7.
Have fun in Cols. It's now Oh's biggest city but Lazarus's is gone. A Macy's store in a shopping center isn't 34th St. What could replace Houston or Canal Sts or the places that serve hot tea in a glass like Katz's? You get what you pay for.

[ConcernedAboutRFuture]

I lived in Joyzee....most of my life. Not exactly New York...but the culture, the life and lifestyle.... truly does spill over across the river.

I moved to the south and met my husband here... and have thought of nothing more than to return to an area whithin 3 hours from NYC.

Why??...it's the greatest place in the US....center of the universe if you will. Culture upon culture upon culture...in a mass of energy and speed. Sure, I wouldn't want to live there....but I long for the nights when I could hop on the train and go into The City for a night of excitement....and there is only ONE The City.

When 9/11 happened...I was moving up to VT.... that friday after actually. I grieved for what seemed like years and I still cannot look at the crumbling towers video without tears welling up in my eyes.

Oh and the term "new yorkers are rude" is a LIE! Big, fat, lie. What is true, however, is that southern hospitality is a farce. New Yorkers and the tri state area.... seem to be warmer people. I can't count how many times I've been helped out of snow banks... or had my battery jumped when stuck in a parking lot. It is easier to find friends and make friends. It is easier to have a good time if you're feeling lonely. It is easier to find a job where the boss doesn't want to sleep with you. It is easier to escape the city to the mountains or beach or whatever tickles you.... for the weekend.

I can't wait to move back up north... because I LOVE NEW YORK.... and the people that make it what it is.

[MajorKong]

I lived in New York (Suffolk County) when I was younger. New Yorkers often put on a tough exterior that I think is a defense mechanism. People often interpret that as being rude.

[1will]

Best of luck to you in moving back up North. I wish you all of the sucess in the world. Psst...can you tell a few more New Yorkers living in the South that I-95 also has a N. bound lane? They seem to forget that while doing their constant bitching about how (insert area here) is not like New York.

[Classof89]

LOL

[Classof89]

People are rude ALL AROUND THE WORLD! There is no utopia! Nevertheless, I still love my southern home and wouldn't dream of living anywhere else.

[ConcernedAboutRFuture]

Nice attempt at diversion from the point I was trying to make, but I was referring to the stereotypical "rude new yorkers" generalization that is often uttered in the south.

I do have a perfect example of the rude south though... when attempting to change lanes while driving, one would normally put on a blinker to signal other drivers. Well not in the south. Once you put your blinker on, it never fails that the ass in the lane you're trying to enter... speeds up, as does the ass after him, and so on and so on and so on.

I actually had to teach my husband to USE his blinkers while driving and his defense for not doing so was "but they won't let you in if you put your blinkers on." My point was made. Should I go on?

So you just stay put in the south, and continue to do the thing that southerners do best...whatever that may be. I'm moving up to the "warmer" north.

[Classof89]

I understand exactly what the author is saying. I've encountered my share of NY'ers. The ones who have moved to my home state in the south due to jobs forever talk about New York all the while bashing the current state they live in.

I always ask them why in the world did they move down here then. All responses: Job relocation. I then ask them with all the places and people in NYC, they couldn't find other places there that's related to their line of work. No answer. Then I tell them they're free to go back home.

I've dealt with this issue from NY'ers as well as D.C./Maryland residents. I hate when people who live in urban cities look their noses down on people whose living environment is different from theirs. I've been to NYC several times in my life. It's a great city, but it's just not the place for me to live.

What's wrong with wanting to live in a more peaceful setting, not having to deal with rent that costs more than what you earn in a month, a green lawn outside of your home instead of concrete and buildings surrounding you at every turn, and not worrying about skyscrapers blocking your view of the sun in the sky?

I enjoy city life, but I also understand the need for country life as well. The city does not have to be for everyone.

[Nommo]

I have no idea what the hell you are talking about here. I only know that to give up rent control is Bk'lyn Heights is idiotic.

This from a third gen (at least) native.

[dndelyne]

Because YOU are a True-yorker; exactly the kind of person she is talking about.

Thanks for the article!
-Thru-Yorker (TX bwo NYC)

[Nommo]

At any rate, then she should have recognized from day one that the classifications are thus. There are New Yorkers and all the rest are tourists. She stayed longer than average, but a tourist is a tourist.