There's Something About New York

– By Dolores Eyler –

It's funny that many people describe their high-rise New York City apartments as pieds-á-terre, which translates to “feet on the ground.”

A French friend explained that the height of one's unit has nothing to do with the term, which commonly means an in-city apartment. “It means you must have your feet on the ground to pay for it,” he said.

Now that makes sense!

I rented my New York apartment two years ago after several years of dreaming about it and one day of looking for it. I am on Broadway, across from Lincoln Center, which prompted my father to boast that he finally had a kid make it to Broadway.

I had long played the game with my family and friends of “where would you live in New York City if you got the chance?” My oldest son said I belonged in the Village, which flattered but did not convince me. It was simply too long a drive from Rye, since I go in and out a few times a week.

For years I have walked the city, getting a feel for the many divergent neighborhoods. Though many native New Yorkers bemoan the loss of grit from the Upper West Side, it just feels good to me, with its all-night energy, proximity to Central Park, and many of the city's cultural venues within an easy walk. It also helps that I have several friends within a few blocks.

I had thought I would make more use of those cultural sites. I do have season tickets to Jazz at Lincoln Center and Roundabout Theater. But I have not visited the city's great museums nearly as much as I thought I would, dropping in mostly for openings or with out of town guests.

Instead, I walk. I have traversed the perimeter of the park many times, hiked down to the Village, ambled across the Brooklyn Bridge and trudged back and forth across the park (a half-mile wide) many times in one day. The steps add up and it is easy to cover seven miles in one outing, just getting from one store or appointment or friend to another.

I also eat. I read once that it would be impossible to eat at all of New York's restaurants because no matter how many you visit, there are more opening daily. I have not spent a lot of time patronizing Manhattan's better-known gastronomic sites, saving those for special events. Instead, I search out neighborhood bars, ethnic spots and small little eateries that have been around for years. The amount of specialization amazes me, from cream puffs to popovers to frosted cupcakes (there seems to be a theme here). And I don't learn about them in the New York Times. That makes me nervous, keeping up the search for the newest and flashiest.

I have a guest bedroom and it is in constant use. I consider my only duty to provide clean sheets. Most people want to wander the city on their own, so I usually give my guests a key and meet them for dinner. The joy of it is, I have not had a guest yet that did not love the city as I do, from a Tacoma fireman (brother-in-law), to a Tennessee crane operator (friend's brother-in-law), to an Alaskan seafood inspector (niece).

I recently got an “apartment dog,” which means the pooch must be small enough to pick up and carry across the lobby, so as not to threaten dog-fearing residents. From a very early age my little border terrier, Justice, was introduced to the sirens, garbage trucks, elevators and crowded sidewalks of the city life. Every morning we are in New York we go to Central Park, where all dogs may be off-leash until 9 a.m. It's a dog fest! The dogs run and play and sniff and beg for treats from absolutely everyone. Not once have I seen a dog fight. A few of the dogs definitely have attitude and are left alone, but most chase themselves silly, the better to return to their small apartments to collapse and sleep for much of the day.

Because I also live in Rye, I am constantly lugging clothes, food and household items back and forth, which is bothersome but common. A friend from Scarsdale, who has owned a city apartment for four years, was recently asked by her doorman if she was almost moved in. We all become perennial bag ladies.

I love living in New York City. It is a joy to be surrounded by friendly neighbors who want to pet my dog when I take her out late at night. It is delightful to have movie theaters two blocks away and a Barnes and Noble, open every night until midnight, just steps from my front door. I love being high in the sky, treated to the constantly moving pattern of the city's busy aircraft traffic, while far below the flow of taxis form a chrome river that never stops. I have learned that it is the lights, not the specific sights, that offer a true city view, making one want to pop a bottle of champagne and listen to Bobby Short. There's something about New York.