Of models and madness: "(In New York) Every 20 minutes, you have to decide immediately -- oh my God. Do I look at the most beautiful woman in the world or the craziest guy in the world?" - David Cross
Mr. Cross had this totally right. You can’t decide which way to look! Gorgeous Amazonian model or the grinning man with a cat on his head and no shoes?
I am constantly stunned by the number of beautiful women in this city and even more stunned by the stark contrast with the city crazies. I’m happy to fit somewhere in between...though I’m sure most of these gorgeous women are also crazy (and, poor things, sometimes too beautiful). Or at the very least, narcissists. But then again, aren’t we all?
Lesson #18 when moving to a big city: Don’t stare. Or at least try to be less obvious, since many people view the slightest eye contact as confrontational (or a come on. But that's another story).
I would also say not to compare yourself to either the gorgeous or the crazies, but one only has so much will power in a day. Part of my mind thinks, ‘How can they be so tall? How would it feel to know that having a job relies on your ability to look hot? Do they ever get sick of looking that hot and people constantly staring? (probably not)’ but the other side is simultaneously fascinated with the crazies, and thinks ‘How can they be so disheveled? How would it feel to know that getting a job relies on your ability to look like you’re not homeless? Do they ever get sick of people staring? (probably not)’
However, I also wonder if these folks are used to being stared at, and standing out in smaller cities...then they move here and people react less to them (or perhaps have gotten better at staring without being seen). That or they become more beautiful/crazier just so they can stand out. Madness!
So you see, crazy people and supermodels do have a few things in common. Mostly that both could use a decent meal and could ditch wearing animal fur (though the crazies prefer it’s still alive, like the cat on head man in the east village). Maybe the city crazies are an outward manifestation of the way supermodels feel inside, and will one day become. But mostly they're alike because people are quick to judge and assume they “get them” immediately. Which, along with staring, I’d never do. And I’d most definitely never expose my sarcastic tendencies via this blog.
The Cathead man knows exactly what he's doing. I would hesitate to call him crazy, though I have sensed a bit of narcissistic self-righteousness about him...
ReplyDeleteHe should run for State Senate. He could affect real change in the East Village.