I am endlessly defending the validity and realism of Sex and the City* in this column, and so this week I thought I’d change things up and try to expose one of its flaws. I didn’t have to think about it for too long. There is one seemingly horrible misrepresentation, one fraudulent, grotesque, Hollywood aspect of the… Read more »
Dad used to hunt. He didn’t golf, so hunting was his made-up reason for getting out of the house. He never struck me as the hunting type, but once or twice a year he’d take off for upstate for a long weekend. It was a Yorkville sort of man-thing in the 1950s and 60s. One… Read more »
A few years ago, on a lovely Saturday afternoon, I went for a sensible walk down Second Avenue in the East Village. It was a typical day in the neighborhood—I walked past a crack head peeing on himself, a circle of “homeless teenagers” that you know actually live in a penthouse with their parents on… Read more »
Genial TV-host Ronald Reagan became president in 1980, it was “morning again in America,” and the customer relationship took off at full blast. For many younger people, this particular relationship was like a breath of fresh air. It’s not like it had never been there before, but during the feel-good ’60s and the get-your-rock-‘n-rolls-off ’70s… Read more »
You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself Any direction you choose. Oh, the Places You’ll Go! ~ Dr. Seuss After a two-week hiatus, I’m back! It was a much-needed break. My husband Ross and I were on a seriously exhausting apartment hunt. Finding an apartment in New… Read more »
I’m excited to announce that next Friday, April 13th, The Del-Satins are performing at St. Stephen of Hungary on 82nd Street. Original members Stan Zizka, Les Cauchi, and Tommy Ferrara and featured member Edie Van Buren will perform all their hits. Sadly, Fred Ferrara, one of the original Del-Satins, passed away last year but will be there… Read more »
Every woman is looking for the perfect package: smart, funny, sensitive (but not in that weak, sad way). Not too long ago, I found a guy who seemed to fit the bill. We went on several dates that included lots of movies and sleepovers. Everything was going well except for one thing: we hadn’t had… Read more »
On my 12th birthday in March 1966, Dad gave me a basketball. This was an odd present for two reasons: (1) Dad gifts to me reflected his interests and he hated basketball. (2) I was terrible at basketball. Right after Christmas 1965, I made up my mind I was going to change that. I would learn to… Read more »
Got into a sparkling new cab this morning. The seats, dashboard and windows shined. Riding my finger along the metal detail on the passenger door, I thought, the only time Rory and I were ever this clean was for one lone hour at a photography studio on 3rd Avenue in spring 1960. I repel wool…. Read more »
Last week, I almost threw in the towel. Between seeing my ex in my neighborhood 32 times, the St. Paddy’s Day Parade, and a mouse infestation, I thought I was done with New York. New York City? New York Shitty! This Big City Siren was ready to pack her bags and get the hell out…. Read more »
