New York has never really been nice to me. I’ve figured it out. Unless you are from New York, it’s never really nice to anyone. I get it. I’ve been to this city several times, and just when I try to forgive it, IT reminds me where I am.
Yesterday, after arriving at John F. Kennedy Airport, for some reason, walking from the jetway to the port, I had a sneezing fit. Ten solid sneezes and not one “God Bless You.” I knew I was back in the Rotten Apple. Thirty seconds of not being blessed frankly upsets me. Perhaps, I’m just a little too soft and easily bruised. Or, it could be my deep, dark, psychological hatred for the Yankees.
Maintaining very few solid qualities, I take pride in those retained from terrific parents and a very fortunate upbringing. One of which is blessing people when they sneeze. The typical response is a surprised “thank you” and both the sneezer and the God Blesser seem to feel better. Much like tithing at the church I no longer attend, it just seems, for lack of better words, right. Rather than channeling my inner anger, and dismissing those sneezing in New York, I am going to make a change. I am going to walk through Central Park seeking those who sneeze, and God Damn it, I am going to bless them. I hope it’s contagious.
Peace out. Stay right.