I have always had this fantasy of living in New York City.  I remember when I was in my 20’s I would daydream about being a dancer or something equally poetic in motion, and living in a five-story walkup - at least I think that is what they call them - those apartments that cost something like a million dollars a month and don’t have elevators and are always pictured in the movies as a miserable place to live when it is time to haul groceries up the stairs. 

Now, that I am 50, I wonder what would have happened had I chased that dream.  Admittedly, having not danced at all by the time I was 20, probably made that a pipe dream.  One pulled hamstring and that fifth floor would have been unattainable.  Why does reality intrude into our daydreams now?

But would life have been different?  Most likely.  I wouldn’t have had kids probably - too busy dancing?  Okay, forget the dancing - too busy being glamorous?  Why do I have to live in New York City to be glamorous?  I mean, is glamorous out of the question in Omaha or Des Moines, Iowa?

I could have lived the life of the people in the wonderful movie Serendipity.  I could have met a handsome stranger in the middle of the night at the ice rink in Central Park.  What on earth would ever possess someone to be in Central Park alone in the middle of the night? I mean, I read the papers - that is crazy!!  So scratch that idea.

How about sitting on the stairs of the apartment building I would have been living in?  That would work!  I can’t get up the stairs anyway because of the hamstring so I might as well sit there and drink a wine cooler and read a wonderful classic and look really smart.  Very New Yorky!  I like that - what?  What do you mean drive-by shootings? 

For me, it’s the illusion.  It is the illusion of a life I could have lived but chose not to.  For whatever reason, I stayed in Seattle, grew webbed feet, and learn new and creative ways to kill mold.  I married, I had kids, I’ve been widowed and now it is a different life.  But if I close my eyes I can temporarily live in the walk-up, I can be glamorous, and I can have big-city adventures.  I can spend money like a drunken fool and not ever worry about being boring or dull.  I can know that 24/7 there is some place I can go and have wild night life entertainment.  It’s a great daydream.

There is a Web site that addresses, panders to, and recreates that dream.  It is called The Three Tomatoes and I love it!  

I love their bit on determining if you are a tomato.  I am absolutely!!  I remember black & white televisions, I remember jumbo rollers, and I almost died laughing reading about the Mateus Wine - wow, that brought back some memories.  I had forgotten all about that - how sophisticated we all were as we drank our Mateus - it was the only wine we could remember the name of, but it looked good, so who cared? 

And I am not discussing go-go boots, or platform shoes.  Except I will confess one thing - I sprained my right arm because of platform shoes - I wonder if anyone can even make a stab at how I pulled that little trick off.

Visit The Three Tomatoes.  Sign up for their newsletter and enjoy their little boutique.  And let me know if you are a tomato!

The Three Tomatoes

The Three Tomatoes Blog