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How Liberals Want New York To Behave

Bill de Blasio, the Debbie Downer of big city mayors, has New Yorkers cowed and corralled. Will we be able to replace this bloated loser with another Rudi Giuliani? That is what we need. Is there another transcendent candidate out there?

I must make another return trip to Manhattan. If you've been following along, I returned two weeks ago to supplement our belongings in our Connecticut rental of 2.5 months. I was not planning on another trek south for at least a month, but a dental appliance broke and it's considered essential surgery.

I'll have to stay overnight, since the appointment is in the A.M. on Wednesday the 22nd. I don't want to take a chance on I-95 deciding to resurface a section at six o'clock in the morning. It will be the first evening in NYC in almost three weeks.

I am not looking forward to it.

New York City, to which we escaped in 2017 when California's stupidity overwhelmed its advantages, was a welcome oasis. If I'm going to be taxed into my grave, and beyond, I'm going to live somewhere I can enjoy the perks. San Francisco, after almost 30 years, could not pass the cost/benefit analysis. When you can defecate on the street in public, the city is no longer circling the drain, it's in the sewage system.

Back I go tonight, dreading the overabundance of useless masks and unsanitary gloves, Filled with contempt for the drug-addicted mayor that sets his hair on fire every day before telling the sycophants in the media and the voting public that "It's all Donald Trump's fault!"

When the cheering stops from the bleating sheep and clapping seals, he lights another spliff with his marijuana-addled, money losing wife.

But she's African-American so all pay homage to the brilliant and tolerant Bill de Blasio.


Depression is all part of the gestalt of things like total societal lockdowns. I get it, but I can't help but remember the last time I was unhappy about being in NYC. I first moved to THE CITY after college graduation with Broadway hopes, dreams, and aspirations.

Years later, I had just been rejected for about my one-hundredth Broadway show. It was 1984, and the oppressive difficulty of surviving in The Big Apple, closed in and landed another haymaker on my psyche.

I hit the pavement for the 1000th time since moving to New York in 1980 with no money, no job, and no place to live. I reminded myself that I was still there five years later despite the difficulties. Picked myself up on the corner of 48th and 9th, a block from the theater where I had just been tossed by the choreographer. I flipped a coin.

Heads I would pursue journalism.

Tails I would embark on a film production career.

I no longer danced professionally after that day, but spent the next 35 years enjoying a lucrative and fulfilling life in the movies, so to speak.

New York City, from that day forward, became the Greatest City in the World.

An identification it held until Bill de Blasio descended on it with a thud, wiping out the positivity of the place, and the resolve of the residents.

de Blasio is the David Dinkins of the new Millennium. Dinkins, the alcoholic, homily-bloviating, Sharpton-loving, inept mayor from 1988 to 1992, pushed the city back into bankruptcy and elevated crime and racial animus. He was the Barack Obama of the time . . . save for the mayor’s drinking habit.

It will take a Giuliani to rescue the city from destructive misanthropes like de Blasio. I don't see anyone like that on the roster of proposed candidates to replace our current loser.

But take heart in that no one saw Giuliani coming in 1992, and by the time he left even most of the committed Leftist ideologues were sorry to see him go.

Look to the horizon. And stop telling me to wash my hands. There are many things I know how to do. One of them is to keep getting up after getting knocked down.

I have to wonder, does New York?

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