It's not overly common knowledge, but certainly not a secret (or a
surprise to those who know her) that my mom's a New Yorker. We used to
spend summers in Queens, were I'd watch the local older kids play
handball in the park, eat the lemon gelato in the tiny cups with a
wooden spoon and wander around the neighbourhood to get a soda or play
with kids I only saw once a year. In an attempt at bribery, we would go
to a few Broadway shows (Crazy for You and Will Rogers Follies were
favourites) and I'd otherwise entertain myself surrounded with family.
I
loved it - I'd go from small town Stratford, or (I thought) big city
Toronto to Queens New York City, where by the time I came home I almost
didn't speak understandable English, with the mix of
spanishyiddishslangnewyork spoken at a speed that only New Yorkers can
master with an odd accent that would usually fade by October.
There
is a point to this. The point is I always came back from Queens with a
new perspective - or as much of a perspective as a kid can have. I feel
like that now.
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