Letter From Ft. Lauderdale; ‘Why I Miss the UWS’

By Robin Cohn

A little tear is trickling down my cheek as I look at emails from Lincoln Square BID, Gale Brewer, and West Side Rag. You see, for reasons beyond my control, I’m in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, for a few months. It’s beautiful down here: beaches with blue water and lots of greenery. But I miss the Upper West Side. Ft. Lauderdale is very pretty and pleasant. The UWS is alive.

One thing folks have here is beautiful weather. Conversations begin with gleeful bad weather reports from home. “Hi, did you know it was 22 degrees in New York?” or “How are you? It’s snowing back home.” Cold fronts lead the local news: lows in the 50s, highs reaching the low 60’s. Northerners would jump for joy.

The good weather might explain why people nod and smile as you pass. Right-of-way drivers kindly wave you on to cross the street, even when lights are changing. Not like NY drivers and pedestrians who play chicken. BUT there’s no casual chit-chat. On the UWS, conversing with strangers is natural. Down here: polite silence. No group discussions.

For example, at an art fair booth I visited, a woman sneezed. No one said anything, not even ‘Bless You’ or ‘Gesundheit.’ Up north after the blessing, the sneezer would assure everyone it wasn’t COVID, that she had a cold or allergies. This would bring a chorus of doctor recommendations, each being the best, followed by health-experience sharing.

I guess folks here follow the “don’t talk to strangers” rule. When I complimented someone on his dog, he looked startled, taking a few beats before thanking me. Even the dog look surprised. Neighborhood dogs run to their fences barking and growling as you pass by, a clear indication that they’ll bite if you try to have a meaningful moment. NY dogs, on the other hand, bark at each other, but rarely at people. Trotting along, New York pooches are used to human admiration and petting.

“Walk” is a foreign term in Ft. Lauderdale. This is a driving and boating city. People hop into their cars to go a couple of blocks. I’ve discovered that places I used to drive to are walkable. There are huge yachts and boats galore. There’s even a water taxi. Must admit a nicer experience than our version. But here’s the big difference. From the UWS, you can go anywhere in the city or boroughs on mass transit. Even New Jersey. Here, it’s sketchy; bus “service” is a misnomer. I will never again complain about long waits for the M11 or M5. Average wait time between buses here is 45 minutes. As you can see, cars rule.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. OK, I am as I sit on a balcony watching yachts go by. I guess it’s a matter of liking big city living or not. People here think we New Yorkers are crazy (and arrogant.) They don’t understand that New York offers an embarrassment of riches. Music, theater, art, fashion, design, culture. Creativity everywhere. Actors, musicians, singers, artists, and writers calling the UWS home. Central Park, farmers markets, fruit stands, and corner flower markets brightening the neighborhood. Maybe most of all, I miss the special brand of New York humor.

I know I can Zoom events and I do. But it’s not the same as experiencing them in person — with the added benefit of meeting terrific people. To be fair, there are those you meet who hate NYC and want to leave. As my father used to say, that’s why there’s chocolate and vanilla.

Ft Lauderdale is a wonderful place to visit. But there’s no place like home.

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