My family and I live just down the road from a giant grocery store. Not a Key Food, not a corner store, not a produce stall, but one of those sprawling shopping plazas with a suburban parking lot and rows of carts outside the automatic doors. Sometimes at night, after our son goes to bed, I walk in the dark along the two-lane highway to go buy a few bags of groceries. I’ll laugh as I step into the fluorescent light, thinking that if you squint, it’s basically like we have a bodega at the end of the block. To live in a condo along a highway and walk through a construction site and a giant parking lot at dusk to go grocery shopping: This is as close as I’ll get to life in New York again.
Of course living in this land of car ownership and no sidewalks, where as