When I was in my early twenties, I went to the Poets & Writers Ball at the Roseland Ballroom. An older doyen I met was very clear with me: "You cannot possibly continue to publish poetry in your little poetry rags in the hinterland. You need to move to New York."
In some ways, she was right. The muses really do live in clusters in New York City. At the Radio City Music Hall. At the American Folk Art Museum. At Carnegie Hall (where my Eamon, because he has the magics, may play violin one day, eh?). At a thousand different place. The nine muses can inspire such hope, and those muses are alive and well in New York City. And good Father Duffy oversees it all.
When we were in Times Square, it was closed to traffic. When I asked a cop about that, he confirmed that it is closed off to traffic and open to pedestrians. When I asked if it was due to the Islamic jihadi bomber, he shrugged his shoulders.
So...for whatever reason, you can take in the wonder of The Great White Way and the wild crowd while no longer having to dodge cabs. Check out the Celtic Playwrights Pub and Rosie O'Grady's when you're there. We did. Both are worth a visit.