Dangerous

I was reminded again that traveling outside of New York can be a dangerous thing. It’s not so much that it is dangerous in the literal sense of the word, but it is dangerous because I get to see how other people live. You see, us New Yorkers believe that everyone is envious of us, out here in the center of the universe. We wonder why anyone would want to leave New York. Sure, we suffer a higher cost of living, but we get to live and work in one of the best cities in the world, New York, and not some second-tier city somewhere else. In time, however, tax bills, mortgage payments and stress can make this mentality fade, and when it does, and you travel somewhere else, it’s dangerous.

I traveled to the metro Washington D.C. area of Northern Virginia last week for the Thanksgiving weekend. In short, I was thoroughly impressed. The newly-developed areas southwest of D.C. are beautiful and well planned. The houses are large, the parks plentiful and the schools solid. The shopping areas are gorgeous and the area was surprisingly diverse. Despite not envisioning a job in the area for me in this job market, I could see myself there perhaps someday. Or at least an area like it.

But my life is here in New York for now. I made decisions to make it so, like I thought I always wanted. But my mentality is fading, perhaps because of time, perhaps because I now have two kids. But all I know is that I now often find my trips outside of New York to be ventures into the land of what if. And that, at times, can be dangerous territory.

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