My last month in New York has been so busy I've barely taken time to register the fact that I'm abandoning it. I moved here when I was thirty and now I'm moving out seven years later. New York is not the place to find you've transformed from reliably young to borderline middle-aged. At least, not earning what I earn. I suspect it's no more fun for those higher up the service industry. The flight away to quiet, green, smug Massachusetts may have a trace of panic in it. Still, I'm trying to take in this dying city one last time. I feel like I'm failing. I walked from a midtown party up to the Lexington Avenue stop on the N Train, and the buildings were all as anonymous as ever, awesome in their height but newly absurd.
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Greg, check out the wheels! As Mike said, biking is the closest thing we have to flying (besides airplanes), silently gliding around, our heads bobbing like watermelons balanced on moving pineapples..... Enjoy it!!!! --Gabe
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