It’s Up To You, N.Y., N.Y!

If I can make it there I can make it anywhere. Or not.

Midtown Manhattan: Wait 'til I get done with them this weekend. Oooh, they're so BIG!

I’m off to the Big Apple, New York City in a couple days.

I’m embarrassing in a city. I’m a rube from Vermont. So surely, the first thing I will do when I land in Manhattan is gape skyward at the tall buildings, like I’ve never seen steel or granite before. “Oooh, that building is almost as tall as Mount Mansfield,” I’ll shout, as New Yorkers scurry away from me, thinking my jabbering is some terrorist signal.

I don’t dress for the city, either. I wear my usual Carhartts when I go there, so people think I’m the maintenance man. “Hey, buddy, when you going to fix da elevator, you’re doing nothing, nada! Ah fahgettabouttit!”

I’m paranoid about bed bugs. We are staying in a nice hotel in Midtown, close to Times Square. Should be nice. But I worry. Strange isn’t it?  The guy who spends his summers outside battling mosquitoes, deer flies, bees and assorted other creepy crawlies is paranoid about encountering one more creepy crawly.

Maybe I’ll burn my luggage and clothes in the driveway when I get home, just to be safe,

Will people wonder about my accent? I have just the hint of a Vermont farmer’s accent, it’s barely detectable, but I’m proud of it. Down in New York, what will people make of it?  “I don’t know, it sounds sort of Muslim to me, watch that guy.”

I’ll take pictures, just like the usual goofy tourist. I’ve decided I won’t bring my big, good Canon, I’ll just bring the little point and shoot. Don’t want to lug things around. And I probably don’t want to bash somebody in the head with a heavy camera as I swing it around my neck. Just my luck I’d bang it into Mayor Bloomberg’s nose and cause a media frenzy.

So I’ll give you a full report of my misadventures when and if I return. I’m sure New York will never be the same after I’m through with it.

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