Times Square, filled with flashing billboards, sweeping skyscrapers, and crowds and crowds of tourists, has been in the news lately. After a few ugly incidents, the city is trying to crack down on panhandlers in costumes who dress up as popular characters and harrass tourists for tips. For instance, a man in a Spider-Man costume was arrested after punching a cop. (Will this be the plot of Amazing Spider Man 3—“Spidey Goes to Jail?”)

I’ve always just tried to rush past these cos­tumed characters without thinking too much about them. My friends know me as a pho­to-holic, but they won’t see me in any pictures with Cookie Monster or Buzz Lightyear taken in Times Square. In fact, I swore off Cookie Mon­ster while walking with my sister on 42nd street, when the usually kind-hearted monster start­ing reaching out to… hug her, I guess? Now it’s our running joke that I’ll block her from any Cookie Monsters we run into. Thank God it hasn’t affected my taste for cookies.

I’ve heard Times Square described as a place out of the film Blade Runner, which admittedly I haven’t seen. But when I think of sci-fi movies with their futuristic structures and electric at­mosphere, Times Square comes pretty close. When I was younger, it seemed so big and bus­tling and unbelievable, particularly because I usually stayed put in the New Jersey suburbs back then. There were stores made out of glass, there were people from all over the world, there was so much to do and see—from the Hershey store to the Toys ‘R’ Us Ferris Wheel.

And it’s all still there! You can still see all those places and do all those things! So what changed? Why don’t I feel such a sense of wonder anymore when I’m at the corner of 42nd Street and Broad­way? It partly has to do with how I use Times Square while interning in the city. The buses I take go into the Port Authority (the Lincoln Tun­nel could come in second place af­ter the GWB for traffic issues). Af­ter getting off the bus I need to walk through a long, crowded, stuffy underground tunnel to get to the subway station proper. I’m not seeing the wondrous buildings of Times Square while underground, despite its name being plastered all over the station, I’m just see­ing tiled walls. Going through Times Square like that takes away some of the excitement and mystique, but it’s the easiest way to get to the train.

Maybe it also has to do with me getting older. When you’re 16, you don’t look at the world the way you did when you were 12. I still enjoy the views and the excitement, don’t get me wrong, but there doesn’t al­ways feel like there’s as much to do, or that it’s such a destination.

Occasionally I can have a lot of fun there with friends. (Recently I hung out with some friends to celebrate a birthday, and ended up… um… removing someone’s makeup. It’s a long story.) But it has that been there and done that feel. Finally, maybe it is because reality intrudes on the ideal. I mentioned the arrested cos­tumed characters—clearly Times Square isn’t all lights and glamour. Like everywhere, it’s a real place with real problems, and when I see the reality, it loses its mythical status.

I had the opposite experience when I vis­ited Israel for the first time a few months ago and the reality hit me. I got to see the land, its people, and some of the issues it grapples with for myself, instead of sugar-coated stories and songs. Strolling through Hevron—despite feel­ing bad about how divided it’s become—made them seem even better to me, because now they felt real and I understood them. And I’d still go back in a heartbeat, even with what’s going on now in Israel.

But should I just shrug my shoulders and give up the feelings of wonder I once felt in Times Square? Should I accept it as a part of growing older, or should I try to hang onto my old ideas? When I think about it that way, I real­ize that I don’t want to give it up. Yes, I grow old­er and things change. I have to accept that; I’m not the Peter Pan type who swears “I’ll never grow up!” But there’s also merit in trying to hold onto the wonder and excitement.

After all, life can get so complicat­ed and overwhelming—school, work, family issues, health, and so on. Why can’t we have a place where we es­cape that? And maybe we might end up idealizing a place a bit too much, and not look at the realities for a bit… But I think it’s okay to have a place like that in your life. It helps balance out and enhance the rest.

The next few times I go to Times Square I will attempt to recapture the wonder, gawk at skyscrapers, take a ton of tour­isty photos, and maybe ride that Ferris Wheel again. Will I be successful? Will Sesame Street be successful in its lawsuit against panhandlers? I’m hoping that my sister and I will no longer need to fear Cookie Monsters.

Oren Oppenheim, age 16, lives in Fair Lawn, NJ and at­tends Ramaz Upper School in Manhattan. He spends his free time writing and reading, and hopes to become a published novelist. You can email him at orenoppen­[email protected].

By Oren Oppenheim