I am leaving New York. My wife and I are leaving New York.
Two sentences I never thought in my wildest dreams I would write.
First because I never thought I'd get married. Second because I thought I'd live in New York for the rest of my life.
If I ever needed more proof that life takes you by surprise it's in the fact that not only are these two sentences true but I am very happy for them to be true.
I cannot get into the reasons why, after many relationships that were special and had chemistry and all that other good stuff, I married the woman I married. Let's just say that after 49 years of great experiences I found that "something extra" - something I didn't even know existed. Greater writers than me have taken entire books to try to capture what I mean, so I'm not even going to try.
But what about the city? The city I dreamed off as an English kid. The city that blew me away the first time I entered it - in a cab over the Brooklyn Bridge (I remember what I saw and what I felt like it was yesterday, not nearly 30 years ago). The city that I finally managed to live in from 1988 onwards.
This is the city in which I got married. It is the city that introduced me to the world of big business - managing to achieve the heights of being an Executive Creative Director of a worldwide advertising agency. And the city that made me write "You climb the mountain, you do what you have to do. You reach the top to find you don't like the view."
This is the city that brought me many friends and taught me that not all business leaders are truly leaders. I met idiots who failed upwards. And I met geniuses who slaved in the lower ranks.
This is the city, that for all its faults, I had to return to after an experimental four years in San Francisco.
I couldn't deal with the "niceness" of the city by the bay. I couldn't deal with the "political correctness" that had yet to travel East. I needed every other word to be an expletive beginning with F! I wrote a song about the years in San Francisco called Jaded Heart. It's on my album.
But, finally, we tired of New York. Even the great 'city of the world' is changing.
We found ourselves living in a neighborhood that was no longer a neighborhood.
We found ourselves living by the rules of the money-obsessed not the life-obsessed.
We found ourselves in a city that has forgotten its art-based history and embraced a dumbed-down future.
We saw local restaurants, coffee shops and bookstores unable to pay the rent that high-end brand stores, high-end, TV-chef restaurants and celebrity hangouts could afford.
The places that made our city special slowly disappeared. And the city itself became less special.
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So, what do you do in these circumstances? You don't complain. You accept that right now a young man or woman is riding into New York in a cab over the Brooklyn Bridge filled with the hope that a dream is about to be fulfilled.
You don't deny them that dream - you get out of the way so their dream can be realized.
And so, my wife and I are leaving New York. We are headed for a new life in a home in the desert just outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico.
As a final goodbye to New York City we are having a leaving party and I'm giving a final live performance at the Cornelia Street Cafe in Greenwich Village on the 22nd of this month. I have sent out invitations this evening but, please, if you are reading this and do not receive an invitation let me know. Numbers are limited by the size of the club but I'd like to see as many NY friends there as possible.
Because in the end of the day cities may change, neighborhoods may change but life is made special by the people, not the places.
It may be the right time for us to leave New York - but we leave with great memories of great people and great times.
Thank you. And thank you New York.