A trip to New York this weekend in the midst of a cold snap. Central Park was decked out in stunning fall hues as well as the usual errant cigarette butts and packets of ersatz sugar. My sisters graciously sponsored my attendance at a
New Yorker Festival event on West 57th that featured a dozen humorists reading from their works. Calvin Trillin delivered his piece in a low monotone. Woody Allen was appropriately wooden.
The rest were variously funny and/or edifying. Courtesy of my beloved M66 bus, I also made a pilgrimage to
New York's premiere button store and spent an afternoon enjoying the delights of the
Cooper Hewitt museum, both of which I'll tell you about in subsequent blog entries.
A trip to New York this weekend in the midst of a cold snap. Central Park was decked out in stunning fall hues as well as the usual errant cigarette butts and packets of ersatz sugar. My sisters graciously sponsored my attendance at a New Yorker Festival event on West 57th that featured a dozen humorists reading from their works. Calvin Trillin delivered his piece in a low monotone. Woody Allen was appropriately wooden. 
The rest were variously funny and/or edifying. Courtesy of my beloved M66 bus, I also made a pilgrimage to New York's premiere button store and spent an afternoon enjoying the delights of the Cooper Hewitt museum, both of which I'll tell you about in subsequent blog entries.
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