A cheering thought comes to mind as we count down the days to Eric Adams’ just-in-time takeover of Gracie Mansion and City Hall:
Unlike our departing, oblivion-bound stiff in a tailored suit who rarely leaves the house except to go to his Park Slope gym, our incoming mayor obviously — and hugely — likes New York City. He’s enamored of our multifarious treasures and pleasures and makes no secret that he is.
Liking the city matters more than merely loving it. Abstract “love” is easy. Even Bill de Blasio might love New York as he perceives it — a public-money-sucking stronghold of the underclass. But on a day-to-day basis among the taxpaying, law-abiding, life-loving millions, he can’t stand the place.
He especially loathes Manhattan, which he regards as a colonial power oppressing the rest of the city. He shunned our glorious skyscrapers, Broadway, the High Line park and restaurants except for a few places where he ate pizza with a fork.
Adams, on the other hand, immerses himself in the New York of great office towers, bright lights and fancy food (even if it’s vegan). Tuesday night, he took in the Broadway musical “Chicago” as it celebrated its silver anniversary. His nightcrawling style transcends mere civic-boosting. It’s a daily, Instagram-able affirmation of the city his predecessor deplores — taxpaying New Yorkers who do not commit street crime, roam subway platforms with murderous intent or sabotage schools in the names of diversity and pandemic “safety.”
Despite statutory limits imposed by the state, a mayor has considerable authority over our streets, schools and sense of safety. Just as important is the way that the city’s top elected official personifies the place to those of us who call it home and to the outside world.
De Blasio has done more to ruin the city’s image, from within and without, than eight years of rioting could have. Even in the near-bankrupt years of hapless 1970s Mayor Abe Beame, the crumbling municipality somehow managed to retain much of its appeal. (Some deep thinkers even claim that its decrepit state made it more appealing). Beame was clueless about fiscal matters, but nobody accused him of hating the city.
But the metropolis under de Blasio has come to be defined less by its wealth, power and creative energy than by its grim public housing, rising crime, income “inequity” and woke malaise.
Most of his predecessors understood that their job performance carried enormous symbolic import. Ed Koch, Rudy Giuliani, Michael Bloomberg each in his way displayed love for our cultural institutions and entrepreneurial energy.
Such passion has been on furlough, if not in a coma, for eight years. New Yorkers who became inured to de Blasio’s indifference should be thrilled that Adams — notwithstanding the very real socioeconomic ills of which he’s acutely aware — goes out for fun in our most expensive precincts.
He hangs with rappers, nightlife impresarios and restaurateurs. He bops from Rao’s to Fresco by Scotto to Cipriani to new Osteria La Baia — celebrity- and mogul-magnets all.
Big Real Estate? Adams popped into Larry Silverstein’s opening-date anniversary celebration for Three World Trade Center, where I saw him mingle easily with real-estate moguls and smile at photos and mementos of the developer’s struggle to rebuild Ground Zero.
As Brooklyn borough president, he allocated $40 million to major cultural institutions such as the Brooklyn Museum and the Brooklyn Public Library.
To the left’s incomprehension — and dismay — Adams’ affection for the city’s glamorous life didn’t hurt him in mostly minority, low-income, high-crime districts. He blew away his leftier-than-you challengers in the Democratic mayoral primary.
Why might this be?
Maybe because poorer neighborhoods suffer by far the most and the worst violent crime, which Adams pledges to curb.
Maybe less-well-off New Yorkers would rather take a chance on Adams’ taste for sparkling blue jackets, red pocket squares and pasta primavera than on another clone of de Blasio, who did nothing to help NYCHA residents or battered children even while he was plunking down $1 billion on his wife’s worthless ThriveNYC mental-health fiasco.
Disadvantaged New Yorkers, who are overwhelmingly hardworking and law-abiding, can still believe in the city’s enduring magic — and Adams, a former cop from the rough streets of Brownsville, makes the dream real.