By the light the silvery moon, New York in June. Zero Mostel sang it best in the 1968 film The Producers. This past week, I experienced Manhattan in June. Pictured here is a cloud-swirled full moon over Washington Square; Gramercy Park balconies & ivy; Sheep Meadow squirrels; East River clouds, boats, lighthouses and bridges; the… Read more »
If your child is a little too old to be giving his father a mug with “I love you Daddy” scrawled on it in crayon, I have some better options for the upcoming holiday courtesy of Josh Bach, an attractive gift shop that also has a good personality. We have a new location for one… Read more »
Last night I went to the theatre to see a wonderful play called Venus in Fur. My friend Ross was the assistant director, so I hung around afterwards to congratulate him. I was waiting on the sidewalk outside of the theatre, innocently chatting with my theatre date about love, life, and the pursuit of happiness, when… Read more »
Yesterday, a hawk soared over Central Park’s Sailboat Lake (aka the Conservatory) for twenty minutes without a landing. The British were at the Band Shell celebrating the Olympics, charity, rugby, and the Queen’s 60th year on the throne. They also brought along a beautiful classic car just because. Near the statue of the Union soldier… Read more »
Anyone who has ever given me a haphazard pat on the back knows the consequences of that simple gesture. Touching my back—out of necessity or concern or coincidence—means subjecting yourself to one of my full meltdowns. Literally I melt—my spine curves into a hump, my shoulder blades poke upward, and my chin falls to my… Read more »
There is a reason why I live in an apartment in New York, a reason that goes far beyond the reaches of Sex and the City, a reason so old and so dear it is now imprinted in my DNA. *** My father’s siblings, four in all, are a special lot, wholly different than my… Read more »
I love Lower Manhattan this time of year. I have at least 50 (no exaggeration) different spots along the water where I can sit and watch boats, or the sun, or children playing. I never get tired of seeking out new vantage points on the Hudson and East rivers because, like my ancestors of long… Read more »
I have a loud sex neighbor. It’s not all the time, but when it happens, I feel like drinking bleach. I’m not sure why bleach always comes to mind—I guess it’s the cleanest thing I can think of. I can’t get mad at them though, because when I have sex I’m pretty loud too. Not… Read more »
Just jump on the moving train and try not to die. —Chris Rock, What to Expect When You’re Expecting I’ve been on a speeding train for the last couple of months, but I think (key word: think) it’s going to slow down a bit this summer—a mixed blessing. While it would be nice to unpack… Read more »
I lost both my hips. Their decline was due to poor genetic lotto and a thousand games played on concrete and asphalt. One stood out: Johnny on the Pony, a game of immense endurance and stupidity. The game’s strategy involved one team (“The Pony”) forming a long bent-over row like a Chinese New Year’s dragon, while the other… Read more »
