"And now the weather..."

People love to talk about the weather because it’s one of the most universal things there is to talk about. Sun? Yeah I’ve seen that. And rain and thunderstorms and fog and sleet and bad snow storms on the first day of March when all we’re hoping for (wishing for, praying for) is the not too far away days of spring.

We like to talk about the snow because it’s one more thing in this place we can all complain about. Delayed trains and slush on sidewalks and wind (my god the wind!) Time to move to Florida, time to move anywhere, I’m over this shit, I can’t take it anymore, how much are we supposed to get tomorrow?)

People love to talk about the weather because it brings us together. I watched a woman’s hat get blown off her head this morning and as it tumbled down the sidewalk I saw five people (five!) start to run after it as though the hat were a lost child. Today was all very: Watch your step, Look out for that, Here let me help you with that. (What makes me think that tomorrow we’ll be back to: Get out of my way, Watch where you’re going buddy, Who are you telling to move, asshole?

It changes us somehow, makes us like little kids living in a white world where nothing all that bad can really happen. I even got a text message from a friend waking me from sleep this morning before seven o’clock (thanks man) saying simply, "Yay Snow!"

After dinner with friends last night up at Sfoglia on 92nd and Lexington, (my new favorite place in the city) over bottles of wine and some of the best Pappardelle I’ve ever had, we all looked, hands on coffee cups poised halfway to our lips - and there it was. The soft white flakes had begun to fall over dinner, and all hopes for spring were suddenly dashed along with our bank accounts.

After paying the bill (and crossing my fingers that my credit card would go through) we pushed through the front doors and cabs were hailed, but I said no. Only twenty blocks home down Lexington Avenue on what was the first (and maybe last) good snow fall of the season, and I have to admit it was one of the best twenty-block walks I’ve ever had in this city.

You forget what it means to be in a place like this, and why we keep insisting on talking about the weather, until you’re out in the middle of a quiet Manhattan night walking past store fronts and gazing out at the long expanse of Lexington Avenue dotted with lights and realizing what you never get a chance to when you’re walking around Manhattan when it’s loud and snow-less and full of people - that while it would be nice to have someone to share such a great New York moment with, the city itself, even on the stormiest of days and coldest of nights, can make for the perfect companion and the best home in the world.

Yay snow.