I have old friends in San Francisco who grudgingly tell me that the High Line is everything that's wrong with New York. Well, too bad. To me, it embodies a culture that's constantly reinventing itself: a defunct elevated railway that was becoming a burden to the city ("we used to climb up there to throw garbage bags full of rotting Korean food at the Hasids!", noted a successful photographer's assistant) becoming a startling example of urban greening for the public good. The expert landscaping makes it feel like walking on a Montauk beach - but a stone's throw from some of New York's most progressive galleries and hotels.

I had been living in Brooklyn Heights for some time and Long Island Restaurant has been closed for as long as I could remember. Then one day, the sign was lit up and not long after the new owners had resurrected the spot with the promise to the previous owners the name and sign never changes. Order "A Martini" from the menu. It's divine. As are the french fries. They're double fried.

The Ear Bar has been in New York longer than any of us. In a city of vacuous fleeting trendy bars the Ear Bar (which is really called the Ear Inn but I've never called it that) is the real deal.

A community-engaged and accessible arts space dedicated to supporting artists in the production and presentation of public artworks. Socrates does not have a permanent collection and all artworks are temporarily on view.

A masterpiece of LGBT art has been restored in what may now be the most valuable restroom in America.