If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere...

Today marks the 25th anniversary of my emigration from the suburban comforts of Oklahoma City to my new life in New York City.

Fresh out of college, I came here to pursue a career as an actor and, just maybe, a stand-up comic.

I accomplished no more in pursuit of the latter goal than spending a few nights in those early months hanging out in the clubs and growing (very casually) acquainted with some of the comics doing the rounds in those days. I never sufficiently gathered my nerve to take the stage for an open-mike night at Catch a Rising Star, the Improv, or any of the other comedy clubs that were thriving in those days.

On the acting tip, I did a tiny bit better, I suppose. I loved acting, when I managed to snag a part, but I found the business end of that field of endeavor -- the mailing of headshots and resumes, the cattle call auditions -- daunting and at times even terrifying.

Had I ever managed to jump up a rung or two on the career ladder -- if I'd secured an agent, for example -- I think I could perhaps have made a go of it, but I never really came very close to the sort of success one can build on.

One of my few highlights -- and it's a minor one, indeed -- was being called in for an audition for a walk-on part in a Shakespeare in the Park production of Henry V (I think it was Henry V; it was one of the history plays, in any case). I'd gotten the audition solely because I listed my ability to play the drums on my resume, and they needed a military drummer for the battle scenes. I guess I rat-a-tat-tatted sufficiently well because they called me back.

The call-back was a group audition, and in my group were a handful of very chummy, very confident (or so it seemed to knee-knockingly nervous me), and, no doubt, very talented Julliard students.

We were asked to participate in several group exercises, in the presence of several unfamiliar (to me, anyway) casting types and the very recognizable (and intimidating) Joseph Papp.

Yes, that was the highlight of my acting career: making little to no impression whatsoever in a callback audition for Joseph Papp. That, and two brief bits of voiceover work I did for a soap opera (As the World Turns, I think it was), bookings I secured solely because I knew the casting director (if only she had stuck around for a while, but she fell in love and moved to Boston, with nary a thought given to the damage she was doing to my career).

New York's changed quite a bit in my quarter century here. It's cleaner, safer, greener. But it's also lost some of its character. Manhattan, especially, is increasingly the Land of the Wealthy, and we lose valued, unique small businesses of long standing almost daily. Increasingly, they are replaced by cell phone stores, branch outposts of giant banks, and chains like Starbuck's and Jamba Juice.

There was a time that a tourist in New York was required to experience something new and unfamiliar, simply because the fast food franchises and chain stores hadn't yet made inroads here. They now have, and millions of out-of-towners flock here annually to eat at Olive Garden and ESPN Zone and shop at the Gap and Banana Republic. You can spend a week here -- and many do -- all the while experiencing little that you couldn't also experience back home in Tulsa, Topeka, or Toledo.

Time was, those tourists would have at least visited an Automat or a Lindy's -- an establishment unlike any they had at home.

But today's unadventurous hordes are missing out when they limit themselves to the mall that is Midtown. There's still much to be experienced of what has always made NYC great: the city's cultural, religious, and ethnic diversity. You just have to leave Times Square to find it.

I still love this city fiercely. My heart still skips a beat when I look up on a warm, clear summer's night to see the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building all lit up like beacons, and my heart still sinks when I gaze downtown and note the absence of the Twin Towers.

I still relish walking the streets and observing my fellow New Yorkers as they go about their harried lives. I cherish the notion that a boob from Middle America can come to NYC and make his way here, even perhaps leave some small mark on the life of this great city.

It's here my heart's been broken many times, and it's here it has healed to break another day. It's here that I failed miserably in my pursuit of an acting career, and here that I found some small success as a writer. It's here that I've endured the frustration and disappointment of seeing romantic relationships come and go, and it's here that I met my lovely Flo, who insists she's not letting me out of her sight or her grasp, bless her.

Twenty-five years as a New Yorker, and I'm convinced the best is yet to come.

Posted by brett at 04:43 PM | TrackBack