The reason I chose that title above is for a multitude of reasons. One of which being the significance of the number 12. Another being my affinity for Greek mythology. Another still is becuase New York City, much like ancient Greece before it, can, in many aspects be considered the modern day pantheon of society.
Yet, I believe our city, our time will endure far, far longer than that of ancient Greece. It already smells older than it.
In fact, I beleive the fires that were stoked that day 12 years ago rage still this day. But they rage in a different way. They are the fires of hope, of a Phoenix rising above despair. My fellow New Yorkers may be scoffed at or even sometimes mocked because of our way of life, our candor, but without our city, this nation would not be what it is today. From the Bodega owner in the Riverdale section of the north Bronx to the family doctor in Tottenville, here on Staten Island, we have proven time and again to be a bastion of civility in light of the worst of humanity, and it was proven once again 11 months ago when our city was dealt another sucker punch by Hurricane Sandy.
Thats why I marveled at the fact, five days ago, as I stood on a Rosebank shoreline with a friend of mine...staring out over the harbor at Manhattan....that we still in fact had a Rosebank shoreline.
While i'm not arrogant enough to beleive that New York is a city strong enough to defeat mother nature, I do like to beleive that they can come to some agreement over a slice of Pizza at Denino's...or Nunzios...or Joe & Pats...or Lombardis...or Grmialdis...or...well, you get the picture.
New York city is so ballsy its frustrated some of the great writers, such as E.B. White, who once said, " It is a miracle that New York works at all. The whole thing is implausible."
Yet, through that audacious, sometimes unabashed bravado, the true New Yorker, the true American shines through...even in the darkest of nights.
My cousin Joe, whom I considered a brother, and who passed away 4 months ago, was one of the truest personifications of a New Yorker I can imagine. He lived his life to the absolute fullest and somehow, someway managed to even wear both a Yankee and a Met hat and get people to smile through one of his endless, and I mean endless stories. If, eons from now, New York Cities history is be complied onto a Quadroceptotino-drive (yes, I made that up so don't bother Googling it.), you can be certain that my cousin will get a chapter of some sort.
It is that kind of person, that kind of individual that will always be the true face of New York. So while the 34 inch plasma screen may show you a De Blasio, or a Colbert, both excellent in their own right, i'll prefer to look at an old Kodakchrome of Joe Spinelli.
When I gazed out over the harbor at that skyline friday night, at that tower rising amongst the stone and glass of the city beneath it, I had that galvanizing "New York Minute" moment to myself where I realized that yeah,I, like the city will have hard times, but we will make it through those trying experiences, not because we have to, not because we want to, but becuase we simply "will." Our willpower is that strong. We really are, that damn stubborn.
So to those who seek to belittle us, and snub us...those who don't really know us. I ask you to remember when we dug on our hands and knees with buckets searching for hope 12 years ago. We found it. We found a lot more then hope, we found something indescribably incandescent. Hell, we may be one of the only cities in the history of the world to get dealt a series of devastating blows, but instead of sinking in defeat, we defiantly stand up, dust ourselves off and push onward, ready to meet the next challenge.
We're a city of of dreamers, and I know that I, like my cousin, my mother, and countless others dream of a city, hell, of a world where everyone, regardless of race, regardless of gender, regardless of religious preference, regardless of sexual preference, looked at each other, and gave that truly New York style handshake that turned into a hearty hug, because that is what it REALLY means to be a New Yorker.
It means throwing out all of your intolerances, all your prejudices, becuase when you really, and i mean really need that bathroom at that deli, you aren't going to care what religion the owner is, so why should it bug ya any other time. And why should it matter if the person who gives you coffee is gay or straight? How does that impact your life? It doesn't. And thats what being a New Yorker is about...not sweating the small things. We have more important issues to deal with, like...when's Jeter's ankle gonna get better? or why the hell is that damn ferry late again? It's the third time this week.
So I ask you, if you have time, listen to Billy Joel's(One of my late mothers favorites), "New York State Of Mind", and then remember this statement :
Being a New Yorker is a privilege, one not taken lightly. And I, Like this city, ain't goin' no where..