New York City moves at blinding speed. It's a steamroller than flattens old conventions then builds a newer, better capitalism on its bones. This dynamism is exciting and  probably necessary according to some economic models but it's only when you go outside the radius of its orbit that you see how things happened. Small towns are museums of outdated ideas. Its Main streets are outdoor storage spaces for obsolete signage and unfashionable graphic fonts. The Adirondack Trust Company remains brightly lit even after it's closed, allowing passersby a glimpse into a more genteel method of commerce. The ceilings are high and the architectural details announce themselves proudly. There is a 2nd floor mezzanine where presumably the big decisions about money are made. It's an immaculate mirage, of course. A George Bailey family Savings and Loan fantasy from It's a Wonderful Life. A closed circle of a certain breed of men who committed suicide instead of letting the wrong ones in.