It was early morning in the wake of a holiday, and everyone who could, was asleep. He trolled through the “Big Apple” in his 72’ Dodge, windows down, the Doors on the tape deck (ironically playing L.A. Woman), Central Park on the right, and on the left were the creations of mankind’s ingenuity, rising to the sky.
The city was quiet, while the sun rose between the concrete spires, with only the sounds of a rogue canine chasing off another from found scraps. He stopped the car and was able to walk out to the center of Times Square, as if he was in a small town street during Sunday services.
Taxies and buses slept, trains and river ferries slept, while the big city stood proud. The street was without the typical edge so often associated with humans, driven by individual needs, in a maze of psychotic waves, and lacking any collective sense, or direction. It was like the morning after the party when you walk about noticing the remnants of the prior evening and the various events each represented from the night before.
Only this after party was a collection lonely buildings representing man’s plan. The city, like the small town, is built with purpose. It is never just one building on the landscape we see, but rather all the built structure, serving the collective needs of all the people, not only the individuals. It does have sense and direction…….that being community.
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