No surf, just city. "Here we surf the Internet," says Citichild. "Everyone can be a surfer. I surf in my office."
It's just not the same as getting into the water to catch a wave. The rhythm of the city is not the ebb and flow of the tides, but of opposite side of the street parking. The sets rolling in are subway cars releasing waves of workers in Midtown. The beaches are tar beaches, and you can't go barefoot.
But summer in the city has its pleasures. Cafes bloom on the sidewalks, and there's plenty of elbow room. In the neighborhoods, people hang out on stoops and in parks. You don't have to wear a jacket except in the frosty movie theaters. And not everyone has fled: The shoppers have come from all over the world to buy, buy, buy, speaking the international language of cash money. I think I'll put on my flip flops and an aloha shirt and wrestle with the computer. Surf's up.
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