But that’s not what I am. I’m just one more transplant in a city full of them. I like writing about what I see, hear, and sometimes smell in this sprawling metropolis, and I’m lucky enough to do it professionally. Why is that so threatening, birthers? That if non-natives participate in shaping this city’s cultural future, it will somehow steal away the “New York” in your blood? First of all, grow up. Second of all, consult a doctor immediately, because if there’s even a drop of actual New York in your blood, you’re just minutes away from scurvy.
Of course, this doesn’t mean I’m always right. Lord, almighty, no it doesn’t. Often times, I’m dead wrong -- but not because I wasn’t born here, just because I am occasionally daft. When the bloodthirsty natives stumble across some fuzzy Infante logic, though, they have a lot of trouble grasping this principle, and its inverse. My wrongness isn’t specifically linked to the fact that I wasn’t born here, just like there’s no inherent rightness attached to being born here.