The New York Times Real Estate section had a piece from a Park Slope writer, who really really likes both herself and Park Slope. In it was the usual Brooklyn utopian blather. . .
I moved here for the Sesame Street feel: the romantic brownstones with swarms of children playing on stoops, and Prospect Park, verdant and peaceful, just up the road. It’s a neighborhood where old ladies go to “the beauty parlor” and restaurants have outdoor seating like cafes on the Champs-Élysées.
She met a Shaman along the way. . .
Her son was several months older than mine, and when I said goodbye, she knowingly told me: “They get to be so much more fun. Just you wait.”
I wanted to ask her for her number to hang out again, but I felt shy about it. But knowing Park Slope, I’ll probably see her again, and she’ll remember me.
And the clincher:
"Living here I do feel as if I won the lottery. Mostly, people are really friendly — the kind of friendliness you encounter only in a small country village, or in Australia.
In other words, I'm much better than you because A) I live in Park Slope and B) I've been to Australia and please ask me about it.
Reading through it, you'll be psyched you live in Forest Hills - land of just a bit of welcome self-deprecation.