New York, New York

I had never been to New York City before last week. Oh sure, I've been to the House of Guitars in Rochester, but who hasn't? I've stopped in Albany for smokes and liquor, but who hasn't? And I've experienced New York City in a variety of ways without ever having gone there. I don't think any individual who consumes products of Western culture can be unfamiliar with New York City in the same way they might be unfamiliar with, say, Omaha, Nebraska.

How is it possible that my conception of an actual place can precede my physical engagement with it? It reminds me of David Hume's rumination of our ability to conceive of things without having ever experienced them. I can understand the idea behind "the streets of Heaven are paved with gold" without ever experiencing the actuality of their combination because I know what streets, gold and Heaven are (at least conceptually). Writing this makes me realize I should probably go back to Hume because he is certainly cursing me from beyond the grave for bastardizing his words.

As I walked around New York, it kept occurring to me that I had prior knowledge of what I was looking at; once I arrived in the city I felt like I already knew how to behave. It is the quintessential urban experience, and it is this particular experience for which we receive training from popular culture and media. The ability to behave in an urban environment is not inherent, although it becomes instinctive through the development of habits. Once I arrived, I couldn't help thinking that New York provides the measuring stick, the ideal urbanity that we are always preparing ourselves for. (Why is it I always want to finish my posts with: "For better or worse."?)