I would formerly have said that Staten Island has no connection with Manhattan except every hour on the half-hour when the ferry arrives, but then I visited an art exhibit in Snug Harbor. Mixed into this complex of buildings, made to be a home for retired sailors, there hang a deKooning, a Warhol, and a Dine. This means that SI has been contaminated with more than the West Nile virus. There's no seceding when there's toleration of Manhattan artists.

The second best thing about Staten Island is the ferry ride there. The best thing is the ferry ride back. This applies only to the visitor, and only the visitor who stands in the open, on the prow. People who live in SI probably have a far different view.

I imagine it would be pleasant to live on SI, in the same way that I imagine that it would be pleasantly boring to live in the Midwest. Perhaps I was wrong about what Staten Island is a colony of. New theory: Staten Island is a colony, or rather a representative outpost, of the Midwest. Let's think of this further. I'm warming to the theory, and will present proofs--namely things I did in Staten Island that I've done back home, but not in Manhattan, or even New York, in general.

One: I waited for the bus, during the day, for more than ten minutes.

Two: While waiting for the bus, I sat on the sidewalk and listened to birds singing in a vacant lot filled with weeds and chunks of concrete. A crucial point-- no one walked by during this time. Staten Island seems, like home, a place where there's something wrong with you if you don't have a car.

Three: I went to the mall. Like back home, going to the mall was not my idea. Like, back home, the people were fat and ugly. There were exceptions -- I believe I saw Staten Island's only pair of young homosexuals, but perhaps they will grow

out of it.

Now, this proof has its problems, for I'm not from the Midwest, but rather Arizona. But I've been to the Midwest, and Staten Island reminds me of it. But it also reminds me of my home and my pre-Manhattan life. So, a revision is due: Staten Island is not a colony or an outpost but a symbol. It stands for "home," contrasting valiantly with Manhattan, that most unhomelike of places.

Let's explore this assertion of mine before I think it's true just because I said it. My evidence involves tourists, children, and the homeless. Namely, Manhattan allows one to feel like a native as soon as the accouterment of tourism is discarded--jettison the camera and the fanny packs, figure out which way is uptown, and you're set. Even better, figure out the directions, but keep the camera, and you're a photographer.

Next, the children. Having young ones is a true sign of making a home. But Manhattan children are not normal. They're far too spoiled or far too polite or far too sophisticated to be actual children. They're Manhattanites instead. Next, the homeless. Ever notice how different groups of Manhattan residents accuse other groups of not being "authentic" or not "deserving to live here"? The downtown hipsters curse the uptown spinsters who huff at the Harlem activists who scream at the midtown power brokers. No one is "at home" except the homeless. They're the only group whose place is eternal and changeless. But one wonders why they don't all go to Florida. It's warm there. One wonders why we don't all go to Florida.