(photo courtesy stock.xchng)
This morning I went to the New York Times to get my employee ID (With it, I get free admission for me and several friends to all of the city’s best museums. Too bad I never go to them.)
I emerged from the subway right in the middle of Times square craziness. And I efficiently walked to the NYT, got my photo snapped, and headed back to the train to cruise down to Chelsea. I was mildy amused to ride the elevators of the best newspaper in the world, and I liked looking at my reflection in the gold art-deco paneling of the elevators.
But overall, ho-hum. And later it dawned on me: Perhaps you become a “New Yorker” when you fail to notice the tourist frenzy that is Times Square, or that you’re walking through the epicenter of the free world.