The City from Inside and Out

I just got a email from someone in Michigan that I don't know personally. The email went to a number of people, and I'm on one of the lists the email went to. The author of the email is trying to find a carpenter for a work-related project in Oneonta. The email made me realize a few things at once: (1) I know very few carpenters. I should know more carpenters. Carpenters are useful. (2) I have no idea where Oneonta is. Upstate? That's my guess. And (3) Cities, from the outside, are fixed points. "Oh, I need help in Oneonta! That's close to New York City! I'll write to people there!" From the inside, however, cities are entire worlds. I'm in New York City, and anything outside is someplace else. Part of this distinction, of course, relates to transportation. Cities are places where you don't drive, so it's a big deal to go outside. While outside of the city, you have have a lot of freedom of mobility, until you try to go into the city, and then you have to park your car (and probably pay a lot of money to do so) and then figure out how to get where you're going (gasp!) on foot or (double gasp!) using mass transportation. What's interesting here is that from the perspective of someone in Michigan, with an automobile-focused existence, the fact that New York City is close to Oneonta, relatively speaking, would make me a good guess to find a carpenter there. But, in fact, I'd far more likely be able to find a carpenter in San Francisco. And, in fact, because I've been to San Francisco many times and I know what the steps are to get there (buy plane ticket, go to airport, get on plane, etc.) it someone can seem closer to Oneonta (steps: figure out where Oneonta is, figure out if Metro North goes there, figure out if I need a taxi, figure out a number to call to get a taxi, etc.). A city is, in a way, something outside of conventional geography.