When the idea of a four day field trip to New York City was posed to me, I had my qualms. Should I seize the day or just stay home? I opted for a day out.

Too much time in Times Square

New York proved to be my biggest nightmare, but nothing was worse than Times Square. It’s a blaring, smoky, smelly place — and I would not care to revisit it.

Fifty-nine MVHS students were let loose. All but one ran around, peeping their heads in stores, chomping on overpriced food, and snapping pictures with their fancy Nikon D90s.

The 59th simply followed. Wondering why so much electricity was being wasted. Wondering why people took pictures to preserve the moment, but never lived it. Wondering what Times Square looked like before any Anglo-Saxon immigrant imposed their idea of a utopia on the poor virgin soil.

Quite frankly, the only enjoyable part of that evening in Times Square were the seven minutes I spent on a humongous Ferris wheel in a gargantuan Toys”R”Us. Sitting in a Little People toy car, I tried to understand why I was not able to derive happiness from NYC.

Then it hit me. I was an idealistic country bumpkin in the mother of chaotic cities.

My dear friend, David Beckham

Sitting on the flight back home, I thought of David Beckham, my famous stony-faced muscular friend who stretched out his impressive 3/4 naked body in a 20 story tall advertisement in front of my hotel.

Girls swooned over the advertisement, while guys sniggered, saving the memory with a click and a flash. I, however, always held my hand up to cover his 21st-century loincloth.

We have a love-hate relationship, Beckham and I. I despise all the indecency his image represents, but at the same time I appreciate him for at least wearing his briefs.

For New York, it’s the same. For all the pain the city caused to this idealist, I am ever so glad that New York kept its briefs on. If it didn’t, then this columnist  would be traumatized.

And mugged, too.