Homie

It’s a different window on things, and I didn’t like it. I’d spent the best part of two careers either behind the microphone doing the interviewing or behind the camera shooting the interview.
But I got pulled from the throng for my impressions of New York City. The cameraman was the first to sus to the idea that it was not going to work. He shot me a look that kind of said, “just live in the moment.”
So I lived in the moment when the young woman asked what I found exciting about being in New York City. I answered honestly, ” it’s the first birthday I’ve had at home since 1964, and it’s fun.” She thinks she heard something else and dives on in, “yes, but where are you from?” “I’m from Washington Heights.” She blanks on this.
I began to wish it was a namesake rather than me being interviewed because it’s abundantly clear from the smile on her face that she’s not from the City or very familiar with it. The cameraman is openly laughing, and I am smiling. She glances back to the cameraman, and he laughs and says, “he’s a homie Suzzette; you know a native.”
Suzzette runs her finger across her neck in the cut sign and gives me a dirty look; I’ve just wasted her essential time. Then she glares at the cameraman, “Chuck, why didn’t you tell me?”
Chuck looks at her, “Hey Suzzette, I thought it was a better story; Homie comes home for his first birthday in thirty years. Better than another ‘ Ohhhhh, the buildings are so much taller than in Whakamole city!’ Give me a break!”
“You just run the damned camera. I’m the Talent. Leave creative decisions to me!”

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