New York City, The Big Apple, the alpha city, the city of dreams, of Broadway and Wall Street, pedestrians and bike riders, drivers and deliverers, shoppers and gawkers. An island city of bridges and tunnels, villages and neighborhoods, skyscrapers and brownstones—a city of cities inside other cities. A city of commuters and theatergoers, of loungers and joggers, schleppers and fast walkers, noshers and pizza folders, baseball worshippers and hot dog eaters—a city of billionaires and bums, writers and artists, businessmen and students, paraders and protestors. A city of uptowns and downs, east sides and west—of busses and taxis, subways and ubers—a city of parks, Central and otherwise, of Times Squares and Grand Centrals and a United Nations too—a city of eight million souls and as many languages—an American city, an immigrants city—the essential city. My city.