Do rough times and rough surroundings deserve a rough dialect? New Yorkers don’t mince words (see photo below). But in my opinion, the city has changed in recent years. Somehow the mean edge is turned inwards. People say “thank you so much” now, just like back in Madison. They make room for you at a Starbucks table (I have to go to Starbucks to post since my ‘second home’ does not have WiFi). They’ll hold a door open instead of slamming it in your face with a chuckle. They don’t walk as fast, they have more dogs, they pick up after their dogs, they bend down to pet the dogs of strangers.

Of course, deep down, they still know that they are sharper, more with-it, more subtly tuned to life’s intricacies than those living elsewhere in the country. Yesterday, I went to see “Bright, Young Things,’ often referred to as a British “Great Gatsby.” It was quite a striking production and of course, I had to feel some sense of pride as the main character, Nina, was chased about all film-long and much desired in an obnoxious sort of way. But I thought the movie was at best trivial. Leaving the theater behind a set of New Yorkers, I heard one say “Oh, what an incredible movie! But you had to pick up the subtleties! I’m sure many will have missed the quirky nuance!” Was she attacking my emergent bold and in-your-face Midwestern sensibilities? Or was she only being a New Yorker through and through?

(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)