Well bless my corns, it sure has been a while, hasn't it? I apologize for those of you who actually read this thing - I've been very busy with work, new boss, moving apartments, helping to found a theatre company, the most perfect vacation, and a whole month of seeing my favorite musicians live. Life has, indeed, been good to me.

As I sit here, ruminating on my next post, I'm amazed at how serious my blog has gotten in the past year or whatever I've had it. Started out pretty innocently, a post about Paula Abdul or something like that and the last post is a rant on the President. I anticipate these will be more frequent as we head closer to the election, but I realize that every now and then we need some levity.

So here's what I've been thinking about a lot lately: the New York City Five-Foot Rule.

For those non-New Yorkers, the Five-Foot Rule is fairly simple. You see, with eight million people living in 24 square miles, things can get a little dirty. I believe such reality is to be expected. But the general rule is that every five feet of New York City smells like ass. This would have to do with the garbage on the streets, random acts of public urination, folks who don't pick up after their canines, and random things only a city this big could conjure up.

By the P.S., in the summer, depending on the heat or depending on the amount of garbage, the Five-Foot Rule becomes the Three-Foot Rule. Either way, we are a big city facing a big budget deficit. So in the past year or so, they've had to cut back on the garbage collection, meaning that the garbage will sit on the streets that much longer, which means the possibility of rats (which has increased), and just general nastiness abounding.

This summer has been no exception.

In the past month, I have traveled out of the city each weekend to places with better aromatics. I swear this hasn't been on purpose - though I do notice the air is just so much more enjoyable about twenty miles out of the city. The problem isn't leaving New York, the problem is returning. I can smell the garbage from the George Washington Bridge.

This, my friends, is nastiness. I'm not living in squalor, but for THE CHRIST!

In fact, I don't think that the three-foot rule applies to the nicer places in town. By this, I mean the places where the tourists and an abnormal collection of rich and usually pale folk live. I'm making an observation here - and it's based on fact. The places where the garbage collection happens on a more frequent schedule seem to be in more affluent places.

Whether or not this is on purpose is not the point. It's the fact that in my neighborhood (El Barrio for those not familiar), the kids are always on the street - PLAYING IN GARBAGE. I'm always walking down the street - SIDESTEPPING GARBAGE. It doesn't help that my front door is HIDDEN IN GARBAGE.

Ugh!

So the best that I can do is await the return of the cold. Sure, I enjoy the summer. I've been doing nothing but enjoying the summer. But I've noticed that I haven't been enjoying the summer in New York City. Rather, I'm enjoying it in places like North Carolina, Maryland, Philadelphia, Syracuse, Saratoga, and hell, even Jersey. I mean, come on.

Until then, I'll just hold my breath every three feet. And I suggest those other New Yorkers reading here do, too. Remember, the more you know...