It’s happened --- I’ve become a New Yorker.
I wasn’t worried about the possibility of becoming one before I moved here, mostly because I hadn’t watched Sex and the City, read New York Magazine, or known any brats from the Big Apple. In the past six months I’ve done some of the best work of my life. I’ve also bought more shoes, had more meaningless flings, and consumed more just-because treats like mochas and Jamba Juice than I ever have. I don’t attach the same kind of importance to certain things that I did even a year ago. In Rochester I was earthier. Here, I’m sky.
Maybe I’m ranting because I just spent $3.79 on my favorite kind of orange juice. Maybe because I don’t converse with myself as easily as I used to. I used to ponder life’s questions. Now, I try to convince myself I’m answering them.
On another note, I just got back from my first-ever first amendment breakfast at the Columbia Club. I was late, of course --- but it started at 8 a.m. so I wasn’t expecting to be on time. The panelists talked about decency issues and censorship. Frank Rich was charmingly loose-lipped. At his most quotable, he called Michael Powell a hypocrite.
The neatest piece of information I gleaned from the lecture was the increased number of complaints the FCC receives. I think the panelists said that number was in the hundreds four years ago. Last year, it was above a million. (They cited new methods of electronic complaint-making as a reason for that trend.) Religious groups complain a lot, the panelists said, but when it comes time to offer a-la-carte cable channels they balk at the idea. They know people like, say, New Yorkers would cut their religious channels first.
It’s true that mainstream media didn’t cover the Cheney f-bomb on the Senate floor with as much delight as they did Bono’s. Why?