While I was lying on the beach in sunny Naples, Florida, it occurred to me that I might never return to Brooklyn. Who needs subway commuting, globs of spit dotting the sidewalk, and crippling rent when you have palm trees, turquoise water and pirate souvenirs? Not me, that’s for effing sure.
Yes, I get all mushy inside when I think about Brooklyn. And sure, I dread the thought of living anywhere else for the rest of my life. But on my way back to the airport – while I was contemplating my chances of survival should I duck out of the car on the freeway – it occurred to me that there is only one reason to stay in that car and get on that plane. In Florida, it would be impossible to write a blog that needs skepticism like sharks need water. It’s just too lovely.
I missed you, Brooklyn Skeptic. This borough is lucky to have you.