The cab driver, the one who nabbed you near the Empire State Building, he barely turns around. “Where on Wall Street you want to go?”  he asks. You pause to consider. You’re not going to Wall Street, not really. But as for where you’re really going, it sounds so crass, so voyeuristic and banal — even after all these years, you’re chasing those pictures seared into your skull. So “take me to Wall Street,” you said, because you want to see it anyway. Asked now to specify, you are at a loss in this overgrown city. “I don’t know,” [...click for more...]