Cities are considered dangerous by vast majority of Americans. They used to be right in New York. A wrong turn off I-95 could have led to a car jacking in the Bronx. A mistimed joke could have earned a stranger a baseball bat beating in Howard Beach and a walk down East 4th Street was asking for trouble. Times Square was off-limits for law-abiding citizens, the 1978 Black-Out resulted in widespread looting in the outer boroughs, and drug wars of the 80s broadened the swathes of no-go zones.

Rudolph Giuliani instituted a city-wide crackdown on squiggy-wipers washing dirty windshields and the mayor claimed credit for cleaning up the city, although the real reason for the decrease in crime was rooted in the exhaustion of the criminals. They were simply too tired to continue that lifestyle. Suburbanites are still frightened by the legends of murder, rape, and theft, but New York City ain’t what is once was.

Two nights ago I was drinking wine at a house party in the West Village. I arrived early and left late. A good six hours of drinking wine. My stumble down Bleecker brought me to the West 4th subway station. A taxi to Fort Greene was $20-plus. A subway $2.25. My watch said 2am. The ride to my stop took 30 minutes. I opted for cheap and descended to the C-Train platform. My train came into the station and I sat in the near-empty car.

Within seconds I was asleep.

The train lurched to a stop several stations past Lafayette. The doors opened to let out one passenger. The other riders were young. I asked hurriedly the name of the station. I had never heard of it, but jumped out of the train, as the doors closed.

I rubbed my face and then checked my pockets. Wallet, phone, watch, keys, money, and glasses in my possession. 30 years ago I would have woken to discover my clothes razored from my body. Naked to the wind. 2010 nothing was gone. Maybe I was just lucky, but I don’t think so. Nee york ain’t what it was and neither is Bed-Stuy.

Ain’t no one DO OR DIE that night and to be truthful I’m glad it was 2010 and not 1978.

I caught a taxi on Fulton. I was home in 10. Asleep again in 11. Morning came way too soon.