It’s been very hot in the park, which made me want to die while running through it, but at least some of the flowers and some of the bees are thriving.
I thought about the history of the United States for a few minutes while I was running. As a country, we’re turning 250. Am I proud or ashamed? Guilty? Happy? All of the above? And then I stopped thinking about it, because it’s too complicated.
I’m more interested in whether things are ‘changing’ in the city. New York City has been a target of fear and hatred since Trump first ran for office, and the pandemic obviously didn’t help.
Even though the pandemic (sort of) ended almost four years ago, the city has struggled to find its footing. Eric Adams led us into an overtly corrupt form of governance that mirrored the federal government. For reasons I don’t think anyone understands, the city abandoned open-air dining. A lot of commercial storefronts are still empty. And it’s true: the homeless population is out of control and many of them have severe mental problems. Everything is ridiculously expensive, including things that should not be expensive, like CitiBikes, which are ten times more expensive than bike rentals in London, Tokyo, or Paris. Why? [I will save the specifics of this example for another post.]
I have at times tried to romanticize the sense of abandonment that has marked life in New York City in general — and uptown specifically — since the pandemic. ‘Oh, look,’ I said as I pointed out to a friend a burned-out carcass of a car on Amsterdam Avenue, ‘it’s just like the 1970s. Cool, right?’ Actually, it’s not that cool, and is one of the reasons I was excited to vote for Darializa Avila Chevalier in the primary. She repeatedly referenced the idea of people in her district being ‘forgotten’ by the Democratic establishment, which rang true to me.
It’s not exactly logical to make this connection, but I see the election of Darializa and her fellow Democratic Socialists as part of the same ‘vibe shift’ that has also been attributed to the Knicks championship, the World Cup, and Clio’s birthday on the Fourth of July, an event for which she rented out Madison Square Garden to celebrate with 1000 of her closest friends. I didn’t follow the Knicks, but it was nice to see people having fun, especially the guy dancing around with flat screen television balanced on his head. (Is there a Netflix documentary about this guy yet?) The World Cup has been similarly festive. People are out in the streets and in the bars having fun, rooting for their countries. The city feels a little healthier, somehow.
One constant has been the park, which has remained beautiful.
I wonder what this park will look like in 250 years.
Is it preposterous to speculate about 250 years from now? Maybe, or maybe not. There are older gardens in the world.
I like to imagine that city dwellers will still be seeking refuge among the trees and flowers, watching the days disappear, and hoping for things to get better.
And thinking about another year gone by, even when they are just turning twelve, as Clio did today, this Fourth of July.
