Welcome to What I Miss Most, a recurring column in which writers wax poetic about the things from home that they found themselves yearning for upon moving to NYC (or the things from NYC they craved upon moving away from it). For an archive of previous What I Miss Most columns, click here.
Texas expats have more things worth missing than expats from any other state, so it is with great arbitrariness that I forego:
... backyards, border towns, Tex-Mex, BBQ, chicken-fried steak, 10-hour road trips that don’t even take you out of the state, weirdness born of wide-open spaces instead of claustrophobia, singer-songwriters who inspire beer drinking instead of heroin shooting, college football that matters...
... to instead lament my loss of residential alleyways. Though virtually nonexistent in New York City, alleys intersected every block of my suburban Dallas neighborhood. Beyond providing a civilized place to deposit your garbage, they also served as thoroughfares of humanity and highways to misadventure.