Vertical Infinity

If you said to me.

Al, what time frame defines you?

I'd say back:

Don't call me Al.

Only my friends do.

And I'd go with the 80s.

Growing up in NYC in the 1980s was something special.

Doing it with two constantly working parents made it downright unreal.

Other than school, I was free.

Free range.

My family ran a fruit and vegetables market in Manhattan.

It was really a grocery store, but that's what I called it back then.

I was too young to do much of anything besides get in the way.

But you'd occasionally find me behind the cash register, ringing up people a little too quickly for their liking.

I was just trying to show off.

For the most part, I was free to do anything I wanted.

Within reason.

Don't get in trouble.

Be safe.

And by the grace of God, I didn't.

And I was.

One time, a normally dressed man saw me video gaming in a bodega I hadn't been to before.

He asked me if I was ok.

Which confused me.

Yes, why?

He handed me his card.

NYPD.

If you need help, call me.

I found the whole thing so strange.

Only in looking back, I see the angels.

It wasn't only the boys in blue either.

Some of the infamous folk around town looked out for me, too.

"Leave him alone. He cool."

And so everyone did.

Let me game.

Let me wander.

In peace.

On my adventure.

They protected me in a "Don't turn out like us, little man" way.

Shielding me from reality.

So I could continue living my dream.

As crowned prince of corner video games.

I don't know if that happens anymore.

Moved away from all of its city lights decades ago.

But I hope.

I hope.

No matter what side we're on.

We agree to protect and look out for kids.

To let them be kids for as long as possible.

Within reason.

I didn't leave my heart in the Big Apple.

I took it with me.

New Amsterdam.

And my heart.

But I repeat myself.

As I'm wont to do.