… and my long days as a denizen of NYC will be over. I’m happy and sad. This photo reminds me that I may finally be over my post-9/11 PTSD. Yet sometimes I go off into a coughing jag, and think of the debris that may be lodged in my lungs from working and living on Lower Broadway in the months afterward. Will I end up with some strange variation of mesothelioma or an indeterminate lung disorder one day? I certainly hope not. But we’ve all got to leave this world one day. Maybe that’s how I’ll make my exit.