There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter--the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these trembling cities the greatest is the last--the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion.
-E.B. White, excerpt from Here Is New York.
The version I saw on the subway was an edited version of the excerpt above. Pretty interesting, right? I looked it up online to post it here and apparently it has caused some controversy among New Yorkers. People are always trying to start shit over anything! Nuts.
I didn't feel offended at all by the excerpt, but I guess that's because I feel that I'm one of E.B. White's settlers. And even though I feel that sometimes this city saps me of my passion, I guess it is also what ultimately gives it right back to me.
Saw these shoes on The Sartorialist today.....
Merry Christmas, Paul :)