When Anything West of New Jersey is Afghanistan…

According to my Upper East Side partner in crime, you know a true New Yorker when you mention a state beyond the Delaware River and a puzzled/deeply concerned/slightly paranoid expression forms. It is the look I received today upon informing one of my fellow interns that I could not attend an August 9th wedding in Brooklyn Heights. My reason: I would be in Chicago… just for fun. Last summer I interned at WTTW, the PBS affiliate in Chicago, and met some incredible individuals, who I was seeking to reconnect with.

Even after informing said intern of my previous summer experience, his bewilderment persisted. He exclaimed, “But, Yaffa, why would you go back? I mean, it’s the Midwest. There are cows everywhere.”

It's raining cows, hallelujah!

Ignoring the fact that only minutes away from New York City there are both small and large-scale farms, where many a cow resides, I responded by listing for him the many merits of the Midwest– chiefly affordability and Lady Gaga. Now, yes, Lady Gaga is a New Yorker and an Upper West Sider at that. However, she, too, is willing to overlook the obvious setback of Chicago– that it is not New York– and venture to Lollapalooza for a two-hour stage show shenanigan. As a sign of appreciation, I planned on exhibiting my best Poker Face, and perhaps playing a Love Game or two.

“After all,” I muttered, “it’s only one weekend. What’s the worse that could happen?”

My fellow intern– we’ll call him Bill–didn’t miss a beat, “You could be mauled by farm animals.”


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