The Miseducation of Jonathan Avery

Martin Scorsese. Woody Allen. Jerry Seinfeld. A guy named "Ham." My mom. These are just a few of the people who tried to give me some insight into what I could expect when I got to the Big Apple. If you tried to help and I've left you off this list (and I've certainly left some people off) I apologize, but once you read what I have to say you may be glad that you weren't named. Also, let the record show that my mother was only passing along information she heard from someone else, so I'm declaring her innocent. I'm also declaring her innocent because she's my mom, and I owe her.

The reason you don't want to be on this list is that a lot of what I've been told is absolute bunk. Hogwash. Bologna. So now I'm here as your own personal Master Yoda to help you unlearn what you have learned.

The first piece of misinformation I was taught was that people will think you're crazy if you go around wearing sandals. As a native Californian and someone who has lived on the coast for six years, this deeply troubled me. I feared my poor sandals would be doomed to a life of being used only in public showers and on trips to the kitchen. But I kept my eyes open, and almost immediately I noticed people wearing sandals. But they were mostly women. Okay, I said to myself, women can wear sandals, but maybe not men. Then I noticed some guys wearing Birkenstocks. Okay, I said to myself, women and hippies can wear sandals, but maybe not men who shower. Then I noticed regular guys wearing sandals. Oh, happy day! That means that during the 4 months of the year when it's uncomfortably hot and I don't want to be outside, I can go outside in my Reefs. Nice.

Another bit of education gone awry is about New Jersey. I was taught that Jersey was... let's say it's Danny DeVito to New York's Schwarzenegger. I actually rather enjoyed my little excursion into Hoboken. Granted, in my mind the bar had been set so low that Jersey would have had to be an Olympic gold medalist in the limbo (do they have that yet? they should) in order to not exceed my expectations. Still, it should be noted for the record that based on my admittedly limited experience, I like New Jersey. Although Princeton can still eat my shorts (Tigers? Psh! Go Lions!)

But the biggest one of all, the thing that makes me want to cry "Shenanigans!" at the top of my lungs is this little myth: New Yorkers are rude. Okay, to be fair nobody ever said that New Yorkers were rude. They would just say things like "People in New York aren't like the people in California, they're, uh, well they..." and then go on to give examples of behavior that everyone would agree is rude. Aside from a woman who was a little crabby about a guy sitting in the "Priority Seating for Disability" section, people here have been rather friendly. And she actually turned into a real sweetheart too, once there was nobody violating federal law and making her stand despite her obvious physical handicap. In fact, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say people here have so far been nicer than those in California. Maybe that's because the part of California I lived in is actually the battleground for a civil war between those who think freeway names need "the" in front of them and those who don't. Come on people, what's next? A battle between those who think you should crack eggs on the big end versus those who think you should crack it on the little end? (Too soon?) In any case, years of unnecessary war are bound to make anyone a little cranky, (Too soon again?) even those as historically laid back and cool as Californians.

That covers the basics. Sure, there's still little mistakes about things like pizza and the like, but I've gone on long enough. Some things you're going to have to see to believe (hint hint).