This same friend emailed me a story from the Wall Street Journal about how people in the Hudson Valley were asking New York City residents — even those who own homes in the area — to stay away. “We’re becoming pariahs,” she said.
It’s actually not quite as bad as all that. Two weeks ago, Schneiderman was reported to be organizing the leaders of the surrounding town to sign a letter to Governor Andrew Cuomo, asking him to tell New Yorkers to stay away. But when I spoke to Schneiderman, he said that the letter was much more nuanced than that. “It focused on nonessential travel, and asking that people who come from the city self-quarantine for 14 days,” he said. “We’re talking mainly about day-trippers. We’re not trying to keep people out who own homes.”
Still, the classic Hamptons trope — entitled New Yorker versus put-upon local — is hard to resist. The New York Post, for one, has been having a grand old time with it.
It reported, for instance, that a wealthy Manhattan woman called ahead to the Southampton hospital to say she had tested positive and was on her way for treatment. Although the hospital told her not to come, she hopped on a bus without telling anyone of her condition and showed up at the hospital when she arrived in the Hamptons. It’s a great story, and everybody here has heard it. Except it’s not true. *
Last week, Maggie Haberman of the New York Times tweeted about the “increased wail of ambulances” in her Brooklyn neighborhood. In the Hamptons, the increased wail comes from lawn equipment. To my amazement, lawn maintenance has been classified as an essential business. Everywhere you drive, you see lawn workers raking leaves, trimming hedges and mowing lawns. The good news is that people are being employed who would otherwise be out of work. But I’ve been struck at how many businesses in the Hamptons are “essential.”
The Chinese take-out place in Southampton is closed — but the paint store across the street is open. The door was open, though blocked by paint cans. I called to a man wearing a mask who was working at the counter: “What makes you essential?” He pointed to one of the shelves. “Cleaning supplies,” he said.
In Sag Harbor, the bicycle shop was open — and allowing four people at a time to enter. What was its rationale for being essential? “Transportation,” came the reply — though in my 10 years here I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody use a bike for actual transportation.
Next door was GeekHampton, a store that sells and repairs Apple products. It, too, was open, though the staff was not letting anyone in the store and taking other smart precautions. In an email, the owners gave me an impassioned rationale for staying open.
“We feel like we are doing a good thing and all day long we are hearing from people that they are grateful that we have that 100-foot ethernet cable that they need so that their child can have a better connection for their online classes.” They added that people were coming from as far away as New Jersey because theirs was one of the few computer stores still operating. “We are helping people from all over. It is hard, but rewarding,” they wrote. According to its website, the store is now appointment-only.
In most of the country, the crisis is going to inflict severe damage on local economies. But the Hamptons aren’t like other local economies. Many of the restaurants are doing a brisk take-out business; it hurts that they aren’t selling high-margin alcohol, but they’re going to survive. Many of the shops that are closed are seasonal and would be shuttered even without the crisis. What happens when Memorial Day arrives is still anybody’s guess.