Read in high school as the 80s were winding to a close, or perhaps the 90s were just beginning, although I'd argue that 90-91 (my final year of HS) was just the decade's death throes before grunge and Generation X rose from its ashes. I don't remember much about the book that I can separate in my mind from the Michael J. Fox film. I liked it, liked the writing, liked the ending. It did not make me want to run off to New York, nor did it dampen my adolescent desire to do so (I never did, except on vacation a couple of times). Perhaps I thought I understood a little more about life in the City after reading this. I really don't recall. The reading of this book is a relic from a time in my life I've mostly forgotten. I wonder how I'd view it now?