Now that I am a Brooklyn snob (GO 718!), I shall dis most things Manhattan.  For the record, I used to hate people like me.  I would come to Brooklyn for some reason (get dragged over here for a party in someone’s backyard…whatever.  Who needs the bugs.) and hate every second of it, but I have changed. I have been reformed.

To this point, I want to spend a moment on the sounds of Brooklyn.  Over here in Big Sky Country (we have low buildings so you can actually enjoy that thing called SKY), the sounds on any given weekend day are telling.  We open our back doors and hear things like lawn mowers and drills.  People are always fixing up their homes so drill sounds are like bees on the trees.  And you may hear neighbors talking to one another.  Yes, to each other!  It’s fabulous.  People talk to one another, they say hello.  They ask how you are.  And there is also what you don’t hear.  I still see ambulances and cop cars etc.  But I rarely hear them.  They don’t run their sirens up our street for some reason.  It’s great. 

And the smells of Brooklyn, that is a whole chapter, but think grills and freshly mowed lawns, and in the winter, wood burning fireplaces.  It’s like the suburbs but not.  No, McHattan friends, we are a short three subway stops away from the Island. 

I don’t want to rub it in, but as someone who was anti-Brooklyn, perhaps this is my way of saying, I was wrong.  I will eat crow. 

And as a Brooklynite, I will take that crow and toss it on the grill…outdoors in the backyard…and oh yes, if you are around, knock on the door, perhaps we will be having a stoop sale that day…we would love to have you.  Will you take fresh made lemonade with that?