On the day I moved my furniture from Tampa to my Upper East Side apartment ---my daughters call it my shoebox in Manhattan--one of the guys loading the moving van echoed a sentiment shared by many: Sir, we usually move people your age from New York to Florida, but never the other way around.
"I know," I said with the type of smile that comes naturally when you are self assured and you are almost certain that whatever is happening is just the right thing to do.
Indeed, it was. I had been invited by Columbia University to be the Hearst Digital Media Professor in Residence for one year, and that year had come to an end, and thus had my apartment rental agreement. I had to decide what to do. My decision was crystal clear from the start: I loved life in Manhattan. I was right when, at the age of 20, during my first visit to New York City, as a University of South Florida junior, I had first seen New York City, fallen totally in love with it and made a mental note that I had to live there sometime.
Now I had decided to stay and Columbia was hospitable and accommodating enough to make me Senior Adviser on News Design, allowing me to stay and to teach my one favorite course, Multiplatform Design & Storytelling. The circle was complete, and I was ready to buy my own place on East 79th Street, which I treasure three years later.
That is why I am so thrilled to read this New York Times piece appropriately titled, For a Long Life, Retire in Manhattan, which, to my surprise (and certainly to that guy from the moving company), informs me that I am not alone to be over 65 years of age and taking up residence in Manhattan:
According to New York City’s Department for the Aging, the population of people over 60 in the city increased by more than 12 percent between 2000 and 2010, and is projected to grow by more than 35 percent by 2030, to 1.84 million people.
I am in good company, I am sure. And if one wishes to mark those late years with nice encounters, the best that cultural events have to offer, the absolutely most varied theater and musical scene, not to mention superb cuisine from around the globe, then I take Manhattan.
I remember telling my children, upon setting up my new residence in New York City, that it would be from here to cremation. I have not changed my mind about that.
Some highlights of the New York Times piece that are right on the money:
The anonymity of metropolitan life gets you ready for the anonymity of the grave. I find this comforting rather than macabre.
Yet, it is anonymity to a certain degree, and only if one seeks it. Otherwise, Gotham can be a hospitable and friendly environment, including in public transportation.
Aging means giving up, de-accessioning, and knowing that wealth and worldly achievement count for little. Like urban life, it makes you feel a nobody. Paradoxically, it also makes you feel alive.
As a person who has worked in 123 countries and God knows how many cities, including some of the most glamorous, vibrant and beautiful, I can testify that no city makes one feel as alive as New York City. It happens the moment the taxi crosses the bridge into Manhattan.
Chance encounters brighten the day. They’re like little love affairs without consequences. They keep you alert. This is what any senior citizen needs. To paraphrase Samuel Johnson, when a man is tired of Manhattan, he is tired of life.
Call New York City the city of chance encounters. Add to that: smart chance encounters.
Yet, my love affair with New York City, which started in 1968 is anything but little or without consequences. That's why choosing it as my residency late in life is testimony to the adage that it's never too late.
