Earlier this week, a friend of mine on Facebook pointed to an article on Thrillist. Essentially, Dave Infante’s piece, “Transplants Are New Yorkers, Too” questions the laboriously extolled merits of being a born-&-bred New Yorker, as opposed to having simply moved here from somewhere else. This particular debate is something of a storied sore point for certain folks who feel that their divine rights as native New Yorkers are being impinged upon by aspirational interlopers and, well, posers. My curiosity duly piqued — as it’s a debate that pertains to my status — I dutifully clicked on the story and started to read. But when the author disclosed in the second graph that he was only born in 1988, I immediately lost all interest. Put simply, if you’re still in your twenties, you haven’t been a fucking native earthling long enough to start bitching about such things.
My ridiculous agism aside, however, the crux of this article has since stuck with me. Peruse back through the nine years of dubiously composed entries here on Flaming Pablum, and you’ll doubtlessly find myriad, strenuously underscored invocations by yours truly about being a native New Yorker. Maybe it’s because we seem to be so outnumbered by “transplants,” or maybe it’s because we somehow think we’re entitled to puff out our chests about something that was entirely out of our control, but quite of few of us natives like to wear our birthrights on our lapels like a shiny badge — one that gives us arguable jurisdiction to roll our eyes, sigh wearily and/or lord our relative expertise over auslanders with a slick patina of disdain when the topic is invoked. I’m dead sure I’ve done it. Maybe you have, too?
Ultimately, while I do indeed find it entirely swell to have been actually born here, it’s not like I had a lot of say in the matter. It was through no bold insight or decisive action on my part that I was birthed in late, great St. Vincent’s Hospital (although my mother is frequently keen to point out that I was very nearly born in the backseat of a taxi stuck in traffic on East 14th Street). I had no more choice in being a native New Yorker than I did about having hazel eyes. That’s just the way it worked out. Lucky me, really.
But, y’know, I do feel a twinge of derision when I hear people that moved here from, say, Connecticut or Massachusetts emphatically assert their credible New Yorkiness. I can’t help it. You would, too. It makes me want to quiz them on ridiculously inane minutia about the city in an ultimately meaningless tournament of one-upsmanship.
Here’s the thing, though. When you look at all the reasons why New York City has left such an indelible mark on the world, it ultimately has precious fuck-all to do with having been born here. At its best (i.e. possibly not in this particular era of monied exclusivity), New York City was a place of reinvention and discovery. It was a place people came to find themselves and forge new trajectories. Hell, it’s even inscribed on Lady Liberty’s tablet. New York City invites people from elsewhere. That was by design.
Taking that a step further, while I cherish so many aspects of New York City culture, I started to scrutinize the particulars of my own New York City heroes, i.e. the very characters that — to my mind — personify and/or helped define what I have loved so much about this place. In my case, these individuals are largely musicians, actors, filmmakers and authors. Yours might be different. Maybe you care about politicians or activists. Maybe your New York is defined by athletes, but being that I just don’t give even the slightest good goddamn about sports, I can’t weigh in on that. But glancing back to my list….
Sure, the Beastie Boys, Martin Scorsese, Johnny Thunders, Ace Frehley, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Pete Hammil, Jim Caroll, MC Lyte, Michael Musto, Woody Allen, Robin Byrd, Run-DMC, Robert DeNiro, Stanley Kubrick, Harley Flanagan, J.D. Salinger, George Plimpton, Jane Fonda, Pete Missing, Sigourney Weaver, Handsome Dick Manitoba, Al Pacino were all born within the confines of the five boroughs (.....although, y'know, so were David "Son of Sam" Berkowitz, Peggy Noonan and Jennifer Lopez), check out how many quintessential (I realize this is an arguable and hotly contested term) "New Yorkers" came from somewhere else....
...in no particular order.....
Lydia Lunch (above, from "Mondo New York") was born in Rochester.
Arto Lindsay of DNA was born in Virginia.
Sylvain Sylvain of the New York Dolls was born in Egypt.
Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth was born in Connecticut.
Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth was born in California. (Correction: Born in Rochester, moved to California)
Richard Hell of Television, the Heartbreakers and the Voidoids was born in Kentucky.
Tom Verlaine of Television was born in New Jersey.
Dee Dee Ramone of The Ramones was born in Virginia.
David Byrne of Talking Heads was born in Scotland.
Michael Gira of SWANS was born in California.
Jon Spencer of Pussy Galore and The Blues Explosion was born in New Hampshire.
The Dead Boys were all from Ohio.
Deborah Harry was born in Florida.
Patti Smith was born in Chicago.
Lester Bangs was born in California.
Fran Lebowitz was born in New Jersey.
Tom Wolfe was borin in Virginia .
Graydon Carter was born in Canada.
Gene Simmons was born in Israel.
John Lurie was born in Massachusetts.
Jim Jarmusch was born in Ohio.
James Chance in Wisconsin.
Spalding Gray was born in Rhode Island.
Pat Place was born in Chicago.
Nick Zedd was born in Maryland.
Ann Magnuson was born in West Virginia.
Madonna was born in Michigan.
WeeGee was born in the Ukraine.
Legs McNeil was born in Connecticut.
Laurie Anderson was born in Illinois.
Berenice Abbott was born in Ohio.
David Sedaris was born in Binghamton.
Wendy O. Williams was born in Webster (Upstate NY).
Dylan Thomas was born in the U.K.
Now, granted, I realize that a list that cites both the august likes of Berenice Abbott, Spalding Gray and Dylan Thomas alongside less lofty luminaries as Wendy O. Williams, Nick Zedd and the Dead Boys might be hard to take seriously, but you could easily compose your own, possibly less absurdly random list and the same point would be made: A vast majority of New York City's roundly revered luminaries all came here from somewhere else (i.e. "transplants").
With that in mind, let's get over the whole "I was born here" stuff, shall we? If I can do it, so can you.
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