Most Foul

Two things happened today:

- Got a job on a documentary show about homicide detectives

- Passed by a curbside memorial to Fausto Lopez

40 year old Lopez was walking from one busboy job to another at 4 in the morning when a 27 year old mistook him for someone else and shot him in the head and back. Seeing the flowers, candles and cards on a street in Hell's Kitchen I walk down everyday caught me off guard in a way I didn't expect. A man was mowed down here a few nights ago because of mistaken identity. We're still living in a dangerous big city and people are being killed randomly. It sounds trite, but I was bothered by the senselessness of it all.

I came to New York City two years into Giuliani-Time. I remember being 17, seriously considering NYU, and having a real adult tell me, "Living in New York is great, but you will have an altercation at some point.You just have to accept that." And I did. For the first several years I was here, I waited patiently for my run-in with thugs that never came. It's always seemed safe to me. Stumbling through Brooklyn (or Hell's Kitchen) at 4 AM never seemed dangerous. I feel in a protected bubble that grows thicker with every year. It's been 10 years, my bubble must be like the plexiglass at the check cashing places by now.

And I know that my bubble is going to make it easier to cut a show about murder. I will be detached from it. I'll be thrilled with our hero detectives and excited by the story I'm going to weave. I'm going to craft an awesome show about one of the most intriguing acts one human being can do to another. This is why I love my job.

But seeing a color copy of Lopez's smile taped to the side of a building made me remember why we call it vertité.