New York, New York
and surreal pictures of Baltimore.
and add a peculiar drama to other scenes along the way
Stuck in clogged traffic on the other side of the Lincoln Tunnel I missed the car waiting in Manhattan to take me to dinner, so I caught the subway to Central Park. I love the immediacy of life in the subway.
I met my sister and brother-in-law for a fine meal at Marea on South Central Park.
Followed by a cigar at the Havana Club.
A bit of an explanation may be in order for those friends who know the former me, quite vocal about loathing the smell of cigar smoke. I still believe there is a time and a place. The time is when you want one and the place would be a cigar club. The Havana Club I understand is well-ventilated. I didn't smell any cigar smoke, but then most of the celebrities whose names I recognized on the brass plaques of the compartments in the humidor were doubtless in the Hamptons for the summer. I had never been in a cigar club, so I opened the glass doors and checked out the humidor. It was there I met a man who was unwrapping a box of cigars into his humidor compartment. When I expressed interest, he asked me if I had a camera. His mafioso accent and the expression of his body guard compelled me to promptly promise that what transpired in the humidor stayed in the humidor. He gave me two cigars from Cuba, one for my sister (who wouldn't smoke one if her life depended upon it, but I told him I had come with her, so he presumed...) and one for me. My brother-in-law was suitably impressed with my score in the humidor and looked a little sad that he didn't get one until my friend came around the corner, saw there were three of us and offered one to Joe as well, who would now as a practical matter, get two in the deal. He is very generous and deserves a nice surprise.

The quality of the cigar which changed my world forever.
The new me...
Enjoying the wine, the cigar and the view out the window at the end of my couch.
The next day my sister and took her dog fo a walk in Central Park, had our hair done and went shopping for shoes. She was appalled that I only had one worn pair of flat sandals. I had come straight from work in Richmond and have made it a rule to not wear heels for less than $120k a year, so there you have it. She was to learn that finding shoes for Frodo feet is a feat. Her driver took us from store to store while I sat in the back and took pictures out the window.
texting relevant ones
to my bus buddy who was working on a 1920s movie set.
Upon successfully completing the finding-shoes-for-Frodo mission we went back to her apartment and changed to go out.
The limo was waiting to take us to
in Greenwich Village
Arturo Sandoval.
Everyone was pretty stoked after such a stellar performance.
I slept on the pull-out sofa bed with the curtains open so I could dream of New York.
Sunday morning we had salmon and lox at Barney Greengrass's deli, circa 1908.
Then Caleb, who is interning this summer at KPMG in Manhattan and I walked down to Riverside Park, with me snapping photos of architecture and flowers along the way.
Then we parted
snapping photos
with my new iphone until I fell asleep... listening to the women next to me, three best friends for forty years, talk softly.