While home for Christmas, I watched a (and by "a" I might mean
"three") Hallmark Christmas movie with my parents, and one of the
messages seemed to be that you only really fully feel the Christmas
spirit in small towns -- Everyone in small towns is warmer and more
quick to connect personally, more open to the people around them and
their feelings... while big cities (or at least so say the movies) are
relatively cold and sterile, with people existing more or less in
isolated bubbles closed off to the spirit of warmth and connection.
This was most often represented in the films we watched by the small
towns having great Christmas lights in the center of their little
villages, residents of small towns setting up green trees with colored lights
while residents of big cities set up white fake trees with white lights,
and everyone in small towns treating strangers like old friends... and,
of course, caroling.
After the third movie that
expressed the same viewpoint -- that if you really want to experience
Christmas, you have to go to a small town -- my dad asked me if New York
feels "Christmasy." I told him that I have actually never found it to be
Christmasy except in Macy's -- that I make a point to walk through
Macy's, despite the horrible crowds, every year just so that I can feel
the Christmas spirit there. Elsewhere in the city, however (barring a
trip to Rockefeller Center, where clearly Christmas spirit is measured
by size), the Christmas "spirit" seems only to be announced by Christmas
sweaters in store windows, peppermint mocha coffee drinks, and endless
Christmas carols on the radio and in stores. But the biggest
difference between Christmas in the big city and Christmas back home (and
"back home" for me, where my parents still live, is a small town in the
Midwest with a red brick road Main Street -- a town in which Hallmark movies could
easily take place) is that the feeling of Christmas doesn't extend
to how people act. In New York, I can't say I've ever sensed any
change in people's behavior -- except, perhaps, for the already busy
and rushed New Yorkers being just a bit busier, a bit more rushed, a bit
more frazzled -- perhaps even a bit more aggressive in their push to
get their shopping done and still get back in time to their offices or
their apartments....
Perhaps because of my dad's
question, I was more aware than usual of all the small town Hallmark
moments I witnessed the rest of that day. Getting lunch at a busy sub
sandwich place in town with not a table free -- filled with a mix of
local high school kids and families -- the guy behind the counter asked
each of us how we were before making our sandwiches, and upon us
leaving, he leaned over the busy counter and thanked us and wished us
all a great day and a happy new year. Though it was a small moment, it was nevertheless
one of genuine connection that caught me off guard -- and aside from a
hostess or manager delivering the obligatory and professional "have a
good night" on my way out of a restaurant, I can't say I've ever
experienced such a moment in New York.... After walking from the
sandwich shop over to the ice cream shop to get smoothies for dessert,
while my dad paid the girl at the counter, I unwrapped my straw and
promptly shot the wrapper at him (a routine effort from me, but one that
unfortunately more often than not results in nothing more than me
proving the sad state of straw wrapper manufacturing these days). Though the
wrapper hit him squarely in the arm, he sadly failed to notice -- the
cashier girl's face, however, lit up, and as she giggled and I lamented
my wasted perfect shot, she grinned at me with twinkling eyes and wished
us all a great day with a sincerity and delight I haven't heard
since... well... since the last time I was home. In New York, a straw
wrapper shoot-out wouldn't even get a smile from a cashier or a
waiter... (I know this from experience).
Later, at
the store to pick up some items for dinner, there was a father with his
two children -- a girl around three and a boy around four. Both
children were walking, and when the girl said she wanted to go to the
toy aisle, the dad said, "Not until you get in the cart." The girl
looked sadly up at the cart, clearly reluctant to give up the freedom her
little legs provided, even for the magic of the toy aisle -- and before she had a chance to object, her
brother declared, "I'll hold her hand! It's okay!" and grabbed her hand
proudly. And so the dad smiled and continued pushing his cart to the
toy aisle while the brother and sister waddled along happily hand in
hand.
When we checked out and, as I pushed our
cart past the registers to the door, a woman blocked our path and I had
to say "excuse me," she looked up and exclaimed with a bright smile,
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I'm just all in the way, aren't I? So sorry! Have a
great day!" I smiled back at her and thought to myself that I say
"excuse me" to people multiple times a day in the city to get around
them, yet I can't even remember the last time one acknowledged me, let
alone had a response like that. If they respond at all, it's usually
with a dirty look like I'm offending them to try to get around them.
Am
I surrounded by moments like this every day in New York, and I just don't
see them because I let individuals blend into the bustling tapestry of
city life? Or perhaps it's the whole city that lets individuals blend
into the bustle rather than people taking the time to connect and reach
outside their self-interested bubbles.... It seems that in my daily city
life, it would take me at least a week to witness as many genuine
moments of connection -- most of them between strangers -- as I did in
one day in my hometown. Surely that's just my false impression, as
those moments get lost in the crowd here... right? Surely there's just
as much holiday spirit here, just as much thought of others, just as
much of an effort to lend a helping hand, literal or figurative.... But
then again, the woman cursing out her kid on the subway next to me as I
write this, the dude muttering under his breath about how someone
"f*#%king stole my seat," the woman uncomfortably craning her neck to
make a point of giving me the stink-eye for a reason unknown to all but
her, and the two teenagers playing hooky while they stick their tongues
down each other's throats with the girl's dirty boots up on the pole --
all set against the lovely background scent of a weed bomb, lack of
deodorant, and nauseating spicy sausage some guy is eating -- might beg
to disagree....
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