So what’s it like to be living in New York, after a Green Mountain youth and a Heartland of America budding? (and a Middle Kingdom, and some Beantown, but they’re not rhetorically relevant). One answer: you see the people in your neighborhood show up in the New York Times. Which is kind of thrilling in a celebrity-gossip-pages way, and also in a way that confirms that this is indeed the center of the universe.

1. Mika and I just signed a lease on a new place up on 151st st. (ok, getting a little further from the center of the universe). The broker who showed us the place was this wild grinning-eyed woman with nutty hair extensions and all aflutter with enthusiasm that we were looking at this place, and wasn’t it wonderful, and isn’t the building so delightful, and you have to see the roof deck (it was pretty sweet), etc. And when we put down the money, she mentioned that there was an article about her and the building a few months ago. They skip over the whole bit about the gentrification of Harlem as people like us start moving uptown, but fun to read anyways.

2. I buy my veggies from a farm upstate, where they grow the beets sweet and the peas green. We pick up in the community center of a church around the block from me, and the orphaned veggies go to the soup kitchen there. I was curious about helping out some time, so I talked to the guy who runs the place. He was larger than life, full of himself and of satisfaction in his cooking, and immensely proud that he offered four-course meals with little advance preparation — actually, he seemed not that interested in having anyone around to mess up the flow of cooking, so I didn’t bother. The Times somehow found this guy; they got him right on.

I’ll let you know when the Times eventually gets around to me.