Monday, March 31, 2014


Liquid bravery
OK... I tried. We've been "laying low" as
we're still a bit ill. However a bad case of
cabin fever led me to plan a mid day jaunt
downtown to the Flatiron District. Often
accused of never doing anything different,
I carefully plotted a new course. You see,
we rarely if ever frequent that hood. So it
seemed that a mini adventure might do us
both good. Sadly, I was more than wrong.
My good intentions to explore pushed us
over the precipice into a sea of sopping
precipitation. Next time I'll keep to what
I know and remain safe and dry at home!

Armor all
Eager to get out of the house, we rode
down the elevator glowing in a haze of
naive anticipation. Given the weather
had warmed up, we both donned our
spring togs. Upon exiting the lobby
we discovered that our optimism was
out of touch with reality. Neither of us
like carrying bumbershoots. However
if I have to, I go big, golf course BIG.
Whereas Frank opts to carry along one
of the diminutive pop up variety. It's
safe to say that neither of us were truly
prepared to brave the liquid elements.
Down and dirty
Cabs are always scarce when it rains.
Given the subway is often faster, we
hit the tubes. Apparently everyone else
in Manhattan decided to do the same.
Sadly the Transit Authority decided
that this was the perfect weekend to
suspend service due to construction.
Therefore every train was packed with
damp, fetid, and occasionally strongly
scented riders. In order to avoid rain
I opted to transfer requiring walking
miles and climbing stairs down into
dark, dank tunnels. Next time, CAB!
Nylon forest
Don't ask me why but it seems that
when someone carries an umbrella,
they lose all sense of proportion.
Hence the constant bumping and
banging of nylon appendages as they
navigate the city. Layer on top of that
the collective desire to avoid stepping
in puddles and suddenly the sidewalk
is transformed into a roller derby not
public conveyance. "Get out of the
way" doesn't describe the rudely self
consumed horde that we had to fight
during our ill planned mid day foray!
Fully packed
In an effort to do something different,
I thought lunch at Mr. Batali's Eataly
would be fun. Sadly at least several
thousand others appeared to also agree.
I usually make a reservation prior but
in an attempt to be impromptu did not.
So we navigated the hordes only to
meet the maitre d' who informed us
the wait was three quarters of an hour.
Rather than patiently wait I stormed
over to a nearby dive only to be told
that the wait was forty five minutes.
Starved for sustenance, we sat quietly.
Waiting room
It seemed as if every young, straight
couple and their out of town parents
were brunching at our hot spot. The
decor was full of hard surfaces that
require everyone to scream in order
to order. When dumped in the middle
of a place like that, all I can hear is a
cacophony that makes me a somewhat
unappetizing companion. No wonder
I prefer the quiet of the Carlyle for
dejeuner. We enjoyed a leisurely meal
only because our waiter ignored us.
Obviously service wasn't on the menu.
Out of service
After brunch we went to Restoration
Hardware. Packed with young kids
decorating their first adult spaces, we
wandered the store searching for help.
Finally I overheard a staff member tell
someone that if they wanted advice,
they had to make an appointment and
wait about forty five minutes (see a
pattern?!). Not only were we sadly
sodden, I was unwilling to wait. Later
that night I logged on-line to get what
I needed in no time with no wait!
Satisfaction is not at all guaranteed!
Fade to black
Finally we went to the movies. Eager
to view Wes Anderson's newest flick -
Hotel Grand Budapest, we scurried up
to the ticket counter. A sign indicated
the next two shows were SOLD OUT.
It makes sense that other New Yorkers
decided to also stay dry and see a film
as surreal as this rainy day in our city.
At that point we simply gave up. The
excitement wasn't over. On our return
subway ride home, we reveled in a six
foot four drag queen who was beyond
beautiful even when wet! Road show!
Mind meld
As we walked home from the station,
I lost it. The fact that after hours out
we had accomplished absolutely zero
finally got to me. My poor Frank was
barely recuperating yet I had dragged
him out in the rain. Trying to make a
go of it, he suggested we stop at a cafe
for some coffee. That sent me off the
deep end. Like the wicked witch of
the west I dissolved into a puddle.
My one and only then took my hand
and led me home. One thing is sure,
next time HE will make the plans!

Sunday, March 30, 2014

7th Day Surprise - CONFUSED

Maybe I'm jaded but honestly,
was the world of my youth really that naive?
Somebody had to get the joke right?!

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Out like a lamb

In like a lion
March is almost done and once
again an old adage proves true.
We started the month FRIGID
across most of the country. Now
it's ending on a warm albeit wet
note. It's in the high fifties here
in Manhattan and it's going to
raint today. So while a cliche,
whoever penned that April brings
showers was right. I just wish the
rain wasn't so damn messy. Try
as one might, dampness is not a
pleasant sensation to deal with!
Slippery slope
Here in the city, people somehow
go nuts whenever precipitation is
in the air. Try as one might, there
is not a cab to be had in the entire
city. Whether they've evaporated,
melted, or simply moved on to a
drier climate, one can stand on the
corner for hours trying to hail a
cab. Yes, there's "Uber" but I've
yet to embrace this technological
marvel. I prefer to wave my arm
curbside like an idiot in a torrent
in a futile effort to get anywhere!
Spin cycle
It could be worse. While living in
sunny Dallas, my posh apartment
was within a building  appropriately
named "The Glass House." Hence
almost all of my walls were floor to
ceiling plate glass. While perfectly
marvelous most of the time it was a
bit terrifying during tornado season.
Seeing that pea green sky or a funnel
on the horizon sent me cowering in
the shower stall behind the closed
bathroom door. In the end it all blew
by but trust me, I WAS SCARED!
Rubber match
One would hope that after hiding under
multiple layers for months we might be
able to finally shed our excess baggage.
Instead down comes the rain as we drag
out our slickers, galoshes, bumbershoots,
Hunters, and Wellies. Try as one might
I honestly doubt anybody can actually
appear attractive in such fetid garb. It's
simply sad to be so sodden. For most of
the ladies it's even worse as moisture
and most coifs are not friends. The end
result being a haze of unwanted fuzz.
And nobody likes resembling a Q Tip.
Weather or not
In the end we must embrace the
liquidity of this spring season.
All of the snow, sleet, rain, and
showers suddenly bring life to
the downtrodden earth. Moisture
fuels all of the reasons we adore
the warmer months. If you've
ever lived through any drought,
you know that the opposite can
be beyond devastating. Aren't
all of those flower strewn green
days of summer worth dealing
with a few dank and dark days?

Friday, March 28, 2014

Friday Night Fever

Why me?
It's funny how couples often do truly
balance each other. Beneath a facade
of the bon vivant, in reality I am a
docile, sedentary soul. The ultimate
homo homebody, I adore my home
and am perfectly happy spending my
spare time away from the masses. On
the other hand, Frank is if nothing else
an adventurer. Being retired, he spends
his days at home or fairly nearby. Once
dusk hits, he's ready to hit the streets
for some action! That's why I call our
After a week at the office I'm pooped.
The simple act of leading a group of
people can be more than exhausting.
For five days straight I've challenged,
cajoled, and charmed as needed. When
the clock finally hits six on Friday nite,
all I want to do is cocoon! On the other
hand, Frank has spent his week caring
for me. Preparing lovely meals along
with serving up compliments to soothe
his savage beast. By the end of a week,
he's had enough. It's his turn to howl!
So why must I be Jekyll to his Hyde?
Shake your booty
Hence our dichotomy. Some couples
of advanced mileage might opt to go
their separate ways. I've seen enough
splits to know that's not a formula for
success. Therefore I've learned to pull
on my big boy panties (literally by the
way) and do whatever he wants to do.
Let's be honest, we're not talking about
hitting Studio 54 (or any modern day
equivalent). My adventuresome better
half's wanderlust involves no more
than dining somewhere new. So what's
all the fuss about? Step it up Greg!
Master of all things
While I'm hesitant to admit it, Frank
often stretches my limited boundaries
well beyond my provincial comfort
zone. Fortunately he embraces my
limitations. Therefore any excursion
to new horizons falls within my sadly
constrained geographic and culinary
boundaries. In his dreams I might be
willing to spend a month at some zen
paradise. But in reality, I'll require a
First Class ticket and accoutrements.
I'm simply old school and not ready
to matriculate to a new school.
Do we have to?
Deep down we're perfect for each
other and that's one of life's great
mysteries. I'll admit that there is no
question I dislike more than "where
shall we dine?" That said, I adore
nothing more than Frank's ability to
sniff out the perfect culinary gem.
Part of me simply wants him to take
control however he's no fool. Having
herded this cat for many years Frank
knows that if there's one thing I'm not,
it's impromptu. I quite abhor surprises
anywhere except... the bedroom!
The time is now
I must give Frank is moment in the sun.
After all, once we're fully ensconced in
rural Lewistown Montana our options
will be few and far between. We have
two great restaurants and several others
we can occasionally survive. Anything
out of that realm requires driving at least
one hundred miles. So, until then I must
be resigned to this culinary pilgrimage
as long as our tenure here in Manhattan
lasts. Given all he gives me, consuming
some of the best food in the world is the
least that I can do. What I do for love!