#162: New York Stack
start spreading the toons
Dear readers,
Hello from the greatest city on earth. Once upon a time, I ruled this town. I lived in a fifth-floor walk up with no dishwasher and six roommates, half of which were cockroaches. I had an apartment that shook at all times because it was perched precariously on a highway, which was perched precariously on a river. I had a bike that was stolen, even though it was lassoed to a telephone pole with one of those giant chains that could literally kill a man. I had another bike I abandoned to the thieves because who needs a bike in a city with 101 trains? I had seven jobs and so, so many friends.
But then, after eleven years, *poof* I freed myself from the New York spell and now I’ve become something else:
A tourist.
Watch out! I’m in town for a week and a half!
How do they get all these buildings so tall? How do they make it so umbrellas appear magically on the street when it rains for the low low price of $20? And have you seen all the people? They’re so good-looking! Unless they aren’t! And even my Uber driver has a YouTube station! And there’s a ten year old boy in Central Park who plays guitar like Jimi Hendrix and a girl on the train eating a burger with a giant Kotex as a lap napkin! Geniuses, every one…
This is the greatest city on earth. And I only had to leave it to find out. Joan Didion once said “Goodbye to All That.” Amy Kurzweil says “See Ya For One-to-Two-Weeks-Over-the-Summer-Plus-a-Few-Weekends-Here-and-There-Depending-On-Who-Has-a-Place-for-Me-to-Crash to All That. Who’s the better writer? You decide.
-Amy
I lived a certain, classic, New York City tale: a love-hate relationship spanning many years. It was full of delight as I rode my bike, free as a bird, to any number of friend's apartments and artsy events, and yet I always found myself kicking and screaming any time I left the city and then had to come back through some congested artery. I sold this cartoon right before the pandemic struck in December 2019, and it was years before things normalized enough for this joke to have its place again. In fact, it was finally published in December 2023, the week I finally broke through New York's gravitational field, loaded all my things into a little box truck and drove my butt out of that wild, gorgeous, fearsome, draining, frenetic metropolis.
Ah, New York, city of apples. Because I'm a New Yorker cartoonist, people often assume I live in NYC. But I've actually never lived there. And I've never wanted to either. What's the attraction? The music? Broadway? The history? Good food? Museums? The chance to bemoan how the city has changed since the 80s when it was dirty and "real."
No thanks.
New York is standing right behind me, isn't it?
When I lived in a 5th-floor walk-up in an Alphabet City co-op, all my neighbors --all of whom had been there since the Cretaceous period-- told me I wasn't a 'Real' New Yorker yet, but they all had different reasons why. One of them said, "You're not a REAL New Yorker 'til you see a rat f__ a pigeon and chew on a homeless guy's foot.' It seemed awfully specific, but who was I to argue? Over the years, I've asked New Yorkers what makes a "Real" New Yorker, and everyone's answer varies wildly.
One young woman told me "I heard you aren't a REAL New Yorker 'til you see an NYC student get hit by a cab? Is that a thing?" I assured her that was just a crime, but I can see how she got there.
This year marks my 10th year living in Manhattan. Some people say that makes me a "Real" New Yorker, but I'm still waiting for confirmation from the "NYC Department of Yerrrrr!" Anyway, I have a book coming out next Fall with nothing but cartoons about being a "Real" New Yorker. You can get on the waiting list here.
I’m coming up on 10 years in New York and some say that’s what will finally make me a true New Yorker. In my opinion, I became a true New Yorker when I began referring to my fire escape as a balcony.
I would literally give anything to live somewhere with a dishwasher.
Listening to mysterious noises through every walled surface of a tiny apartment is an actual form of torture, and a New Yorker’s fragile sanity always hangs in the balance. A peaceful sanctuary can be decimated by something as small as a neighbor that sighs too much. What the hell are they sighing about, so close to our shared wall, at 3 am on a Tuesday?
The not-so-subtle noises heard through a wall—construction sites, babies, chronic sex enjoyers, neighbors with bowling alleys—can suddenly invade your space and threaten your life with years of sleeplessness in an instant. A lack of sleep inevitably degrades the psyche, and delusions of a quieter life surface—Windsor Terrace, Connecticut, or even a deep hole in the ground, all start to sound like really fantastic options.
I just moved back to New York. It is wet! And hot! And getting wetter and hotter! Sometimes all you can do is make toons in the face of impending climate disaster!
This cartoon was drawn from the apartment that shook at all times. Drawing was hard –but I had a really, really good view.
But wait, there’s more!
- releases every Friday!
- ’s graphic memoir, Artificial: A Love Story, was named a best book of 2023 by The New Yorker, NPR, and Kirkus!
Amy also teaches cartoon classes on Patreon! Sign up now to get the recording of every past class!
Check out Navied’s critically acclaimed graphic memoir, This Country: Searching for Home in (Very) Rural America.
- has two substacks: New York Cartoons (Cartoons about life in New York) & Process Junkie (Lessons on the creative process) and has a book coming out in Fall 2025 called "You're Not A Real New Yorker Until..." You can get a discount on your pre-order here.
- 's got an advice column! Read it here.
Your witty and nostalgic reflections on New York City capture life's unique and chaotic charm in the Big Apple. I appreciated the humorous anecdotes about defining what makes a "real" New Yorker and the vivid memories of your past experiences. Your storytelling is so relatable and entertaining!