This past weekend RTC wrote an open letter imploring me to get the hell out of the Midwest and retrace my steps back to the Big Apple. Umm, this didn’t require an intervention! I know where I belong. Stepping stones, folks. Stepping stones. This is not exactly the ideal economy for packing bags and skedaddling at the drop of a hat, especially to NYC, which boasts a 17% higher than average income but also a 98% higher cost of living than the rest of the States. So…science says…I’ll leave…eventually. And by eventually, I mean as soon as I can.
On to more distressing issues about RTC’s post, which I found (for the most part) all fine and fair, especially since I was a main character: I am bothered by the fact that he only acknowledges six U.S. metropolitan areas as genuine cities. This is way off. T., you are ignoring a lot of really wonderful places simply because they don’t exist on either coast! To wit:
Richmond, Virginia, was the capital of the Confederacy and is one of our most historically important metropolises. It is a veritable time capsule of the men and places that built our nation, and its tight-knit, Old Guard society is even more lauded (and closely protected from outsiders) than San Francisco or Manhattan. Richmond is one of our finest American cities.
St. Louis is one of our oldest cities, having been founded even before Jamestown in the 16th century. It was the site of the 1904 World’s Fair, and didn’t it host the Olympics one year, long ago? Its history alone makes it one of our most valuable cities, and if you judge your townships by their WASPiness (as I do), St. Louis ranks pretty high: it is one of the last bastions of old family crustiness, one of those endangered species where your last name (and your grandmother’s last name…and her mother’s last name) truly matter. St. Louis is a full-blown city, replete with beer, heavy crime, and a Metrolink.
Houston is, I believe, the second or third most populous metro area in the nation. Houston has oil and hair and heat. Houston is a city.
Philadelphia is a city. It boasts many of our Founding Fathers, which I consider Important.
Detroit is a city. RTC! You work in the music industry! How can you thumb your nose at Motown?
Ditto to New Orleans, the birth place of jazz.
For more Great American Cities, I turn to Huey Lewis, WASP god, Ivy Leaguer and Great American Rock Hero, for guidance, who rattled them off with aplomb in his classic frat gem, “The Heart of Rock ‘n Roll”:
“DC, San Antone, and the Liberty Town,
Boston and Baton Rouge,
Tulsa, Oklahoma City, Seattle, San Francisco, too…
And Cleveland…Detroit!”
The point I’m making is that even if one is going to base their definition of “city” on its longitude, its proximity to coastline, one can’t possibly ignore the fact that New York and L.A., while tops, are only two of many worthwhile places to live and visit. As I write this I realize I left out Austin, Birmingham, Charleston, Charlotte, Dallas, Denver, Kansas City, Miami, Minneapolis, and Phoenix.
One way to look at it is this: If The Real World has staged a season there; if it’s been around since before the US was an independent nation; if it has a Junior League; if the nightlife scene draws as heavy a crowd on Mondays as on Fridays; if it boasts the world’s largest brewery (St. Louis), car manufacturer (Detroit), or global communications conglomerate (Atlanta); if it has real snob appeal, it’s a city. And whether I end up in New York will depend less on my desire to live in a big urban jungle than happiness (and money), end of story.
