“I LOVE THE GRIME ALL THE TIME…”

It’s a humid day in NYC. It’s gone between sunny, rainy and cloudy (my childhood cats were named rainy and cloudy…I think I was in a bit of a depression when naming them) and yet it’s been a glorious day. I think something that I dislike most about living in the city is the schlepping. On any given day I’ll go between my house, work, an exercise class, multiple auditions and my boyfriend’s house. This requires me to carry more bags than I’d wish to carry, inevitably making me into a bag lady of sorts. This morning I walked to my office and various auditions, down and up and down again along 8th avenue. Each time carrying, at least, three bags while attempting to keep my cool.

 
As I walk in one of the busiest neighborhoods of this city dripping sweat, there are so many classic New York scenes in every visible direction. A man stands on the corner trying to sell me an umbrella, a biker nearly runs me over trying to deliver someone’s lunch (and I do NOT curse at him), tourists block the intersection looking at their cellphones and directions. It all reminds me of the stories my mom told me of her dreams of moving to New York and hustling to make a life here. Her dream was of course a romanticized version of what it is actually like, but it’s also not. It’s exactly as beautiful and grimey and amazing as she imagined it would be.

One of my favorite sights becomes increasingly visible as I near the block where the majority of Broadway (and off Broadway and off off Broadway) auditions are held. I see actors/dancers/singers going to auditions. You can sometimes spot them from a mile away. I ride the elevator up with a young girl and her mom, the girl carrying a sparkly blue binder full of crisply printed music. She is clearly new to the audition scene. The more seasoned performers roam the halls with their binders full of faded copies of music they’ve sung for years. Some of them even have black rectangles of mic tape residue on their necks from the previous evening’s performance.

It starts to pour outside of our 16th-floor window and I’ll have to schlep all these bags back to my office with no hands left for an umbrella. But it’s fine because I’ve spent the morning being serenaded with broadway show tunes and after all, I live in one of the greatest cities in the world.


  

“Once I hated this city
Now it can’t get me down
Slushy, humid and gritty
What a pretty town

What thought I could be duller
More depressing, less gay
Now my favorite color
Is gray

A wall of rain as it turns to sleet
The lack of sun on a one-way street
I love the grime all the time
And what more do I need?

My window pane has a lovely view
An inch of sky and a fly or two
Why I can see half a tree
And what more do I need?

The dusk is thick and it’s galling
It simply can’t be excused
In winter even the falling snow looks
Used

My window pane may not give much light
But I see you, so the view is bright
If I can love you, I’ll pay the dirt no heed
With your love what more do I need?

Someone shouting for quiet
Someone starting a brawl
Down the block there’s a riot
And I’ll buy it all

Listen now, I’m ecstatic
Hold me close and be still
Hear the lovely pneumatic
Drill

A subway train thunders through the Bronx
A taxi horn on the corner honks
But I adore every roar
And what more do I need?

I hear a crane making street repairs
A two ton child running wild upstairs
Steam pipes bang, sirens clang
And what more do I need?

The neighbors yell in the summer
The landlord yells in the fall
So loud I can’t hear the plumber
Pound the wall

An aeroplane roars across the bay
But I can hear you as clear as day
You said you loved me
Above the sound and speed
With your love what more do I need?”

“What More Do I Need”- Stephen Sondheim