With summer here, the city’s frenzied annual migration is in full swing. Like flocks of geese fleeing icy Arctic winds, New Yorkers exhibit a particular dread of being stuck in the city on a summer weekend. And so rather than allow themselves to relax and enjoy one of the world’s greatest cities, they launch themselves into a frenzy of going and spending.
If you want to learn how to screw up a perfectly delightful weekend, observe the New Yorker in his or her natural summer habitat—the beaches of the Hamptons, the Jersey Shore and Cape Cod; the leafy hills of Litchfield County; the mountains of the Catskills and Berkshires. There you will find your New Yorker, most often with a glazed expression, disheveled appearance and an empty wallet.
Which is no surprise, when you consider what he’s been through: several hours stuck in traffic, first perhaps on the Long Island Expressway, then idling in a line of expensive cars choking the streets of the adorable little town he’s “summering” in. When he does finally arrive at his house, he barely has time for a sip of
Indeed, New Yorkers who stay home on summer weekends discover a marvelous new city beckoning behind the one they usually inhabit: The sidewalks are empty, the parks are at their peak of lushness and the best restaurants always have a table. And when something breaks, just call the super.