The Light of New York

Years ago, I commented to my brother, Eugene, that the light in New York was different. He said it had to do with latitude. I doubt it. New York has a similiar latitude to Madrid and Rome, but the light is different.

The first time I noticed it was not when I went to Rice. It was when I was four.
"Three's Company" was shot on video, but "M*A*S*H" and "Happy Days" were filmed. Even filmed, the lighting for "Charlie's Angels" was not the same as "M*A*S*H" and "Happy Days." Those shows were the stark light of reality. The light of New York.

In the years I have spent away from New York, I tend to forget how harsh and disconcerting it is, how steeped it is with my own pasts, the ghosts of my unknown ancestors, and the forgotten memories of things I should understand happened here but don't.

The light of New York is indelible. It soaks into the granite and steel. It attaches to the soot and rain. It has a smell. Indelible is one of those great English words that I learned in LING 201 that entered the English language more than once thanks to the Romans. It's related to the word "delete." I would know more about the word if I had studied real linguistics past LING 201, but I was interested in what Dave kindly once referred to as "total nonsense."

I had a point here, but I forgot what it was. Ok, I remember now. It was a point about nonsense. And here, will be one of the few times that I actually explain what I am saying, rather than trailing off.

Ultimately, I admit that the light in New York looks no different than other places. But honestly, I truly perceive a difference in the quality of the light. Amazingly, the latitude theory is offered by someone who does not have that perception; a theory that I would not have come up with.

This is what it means to cope, to be part of a family. It's a shared nonsense. And if its a fact, I believe it. And the fact is that the light of reality can be harsh, in New York and elsewhere. Believe it.

Believe it.