*chuckle* My belovedest grew up on Roosevelt Island; before I met her, I worked a long summer at Brooklyn Hospital, staying in Midtown Manhattan. I didn't get nearly as much exploring done as I wanted to, but I did get in a Mets game, and got to see Halloween in the Village. *That* was *amazing*. (I also developed a passable Manhattan accent and managed to get my then-Southern brain wound up fast enough to understand the subway operators. Brooklynese, though, I can understand it, but my tongue just *cannot* wrap around the idea of "s-a-w" being pronounced "sore"... :D )