Last week I was in Manhattan, a city I used to live in and continue to love. Normally when I go there, I avoid the Columbus Circle area, my old neighborhood. But this time, I decided to take a look. Gone, everything was gone. The Chinese Green Grocer was gone, the Flower seller was gone, the shop that sold the best home made pasta in the world was gone, my neighborhood bar was gone, and so, sadly, was the studio where I studied dance. Gone, gone, gone. And what was standing in their place? A sterile, upscale shopping mall that would be perfectly at home in some trendy area of Los Angeles or Dallas. Nothing about it said New York. There was also a brand new shiny glass condominium, where I'm sure the studio apartments start at a million dollars.
The whole place had changed and I guess it was meant to be very welcoming to the Real Housewives of New York City and not so friendly to the late twenties want to be dancer that I was. As the hubster pointed out, the type of things that I loved have just moved uptown, closer to Columbia and nothing stays the same, change is inevitable, and wasn't this better than the whole place deteriorating into some slum? I suppose so, but in hindsight, I should have kept my memories and stayed away.