August 20, 2009
I typically shy away from making guarantees, but I can promise you this: my next apartment in New York, wherever that might be, will damn sure have roof access. Rooftops in NYC are like adult pacifiers. For real. If you have access to your roof at your place or if you have a buddy that does, go up there, shut the fuck up and look around. Pretty isn’t it? Taking in the New York skyline from several stories up is an experience that can’t be paralleled and it’s one that has an uncanny calming effect, particularly at night. I don’t care how long you’ve been in the city or how jaded and cold New York has made you, the skyline never gets old. Whatever issues or problems that have worked your brain into a knot will dissipate. You know why? Because you’re on a rooftop in New York City goddammit and that’s pretty special.
It’s been a peculiar summer. June basically didn’t exist due to awful weather and I’ve been out of town essentially every weekend since for one reason or another. That just means one thing—much of the time I have left before the summer turns to vapor will be spent on a blanket on my roof with a boombox and a Modelo. Beeleeee dat.