I am searching for a wireless network in the suburbs. I wind up at Starbucks. It’s tough not to compare this one with the one I just frequented in Manhattan. This one is cool and calm and you can hear the music.

The one on 7th Avenue was loud and crazy and hopelessly behind. Lines formed at all times of the day. There were no seats. Outside, human beings of every size and description formed an endless parade on the thoroughfare.

I live in the suburbs now. I write about the suburbs. I wouldn’t want to live in a small apartment in a huge city anymore.

But I notice the differences, and I miss the place. And most of all, I miss the person I am when I’m there.