On my way to my home away from home, Port Authority Bus Terminal, I decided to take the scenic route and walk from the F on 42nd. Walking up to eighth avenue, to no surprise I marched alongside tourists.
Tourists, with their smart shoes, selfie sticks and little backpacks. Tourists, with their most “New York” outfits on to blend in and a glimmer of hope in their eye. For those of them with earbuds on, I imagined them to be listening to New York, New York, the Glee version.
If you scroll long enough on reels, you’ll probably encounter a recent New York resident, complaining about tourists. Still, as someone who’s grown up here, I love them.
One guy had his selfie stick up loud and proud, on the longest setting. He wasn’t filming himself, but instead the times square ambiance. Now, I’m not really sure why he needed the selfie stick for this because he wasn’t holding it higher, just further from his body, so the angle wouldn’t be that different from if he chose to film the buildings with the phone in his hand. However, as someone whose always wanted an excuse to own a selfie stick, I get it. More than for the practicality, it’s for the feeling, the power, the experience.
As I looked closer, wanting to see if I approved of his composition, I noticed he was on Facebook live.
I love to see people on live. I know some still do it all the time (other than celebrities), but it still makes me nostalgic for when the feature first debuted. I’ll forever remember the first few months - I know for a fact I was in the seventh grade.
I was at Celeste’s house, shoutout, and convinced her to do a live with me on my phone in hopes my crush of the year would join. I was thinking back on it, trying to remember if he joined after all, but I can’t remember. That’s a lie, he did. What can I say? I had an impact.
I think it was short lived, though, because being on live (and watching them) was exceedingly boring.
I’m sure I had like three viewers, but that memory might have been the first time I felt fame hungry (a foreshadow of this blog?). I’ve had many more moments of this since, some more embarrassing than others. Pretty much whenever I join a new social media, actually, I secretly (or not so secretly) hope I’ll go viral.
If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t think I could handle the fame. I recently redownloaded tiktok, inspired to make content, and I could barely take three followers without freezing up. (Barely is a stretch, I removed them once again and I’m back to zero).
42 street also brought me back to a year later, in eighth grade. I know Beacon* isn’t exactly in the area, but being around Times Square always reminds me of my interview there. The other kid with me wrote his essay about The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost, I think comparing it to his piano career or something geeky like that. (Just salty cause I got rejected - although, sorry Sarah, so glad I didn’t go there). I wonder if he knows how much he affected the trajectory of my life, because I quote that poem at least once a week. I do think it’s because of him, because usually when people talk about poets I tune out. Except, of course, when I can’t.
*for my non New York readers, Beacon is a high school.
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