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About New York City

I’m sittin’ there thinkin’, ooh, the way them hands glide, it’s pure magic—like William in the movie, chasin’ dreams, only I’m chasin’ tingles down my spine. “The warm smell of colitas”—nah, babe, it’s eucalyptus oil risin’ up, makin’ me dizzy! Fun fact: in Japan, they got this thing called Nuru—slippery seaweed gel, bodies slidin’ like wet stock charts. Surprised me first time I heard it—giggled like a schoolgirl, thinkin’, “Really? Seaweed?!” Exaggeratin’ here, but I’d kill for that kinda slick thrill after a long day screamin’ “Buy! Sell!”

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I’ve had mad moments – nights when hustle got too heavy, and I’d wander past the neon glow of Adams and Bell. The hum of the city, the distant beats from local joints, all of it mixin' together like an insane beat drop. Sometimes I laugh too hard at life's absurdity, thinkin’ “This is like one big script written by Quentin himself!” Even the streets got personality, yo.

William Baltas Obituary (1925 - 2025) - Valparaiso, IN - The Times