New York

Day one: Thursday

Slow day. Boring day. Probably because most of said day was spent sitting in the terminal at the Houston airport. Delays. Endless delays. Coupled with endless phone calls. I find those people who yak on their mobile phones tiresome ... suddenly, I am that person. And for the record, airport pretzels are a no-do. The smoothie guy, however, was entertaining; we even tipped him for counter service (a trend I find disturbing, by the way - why am I tipping you for making me stand at the counter to buy an overpriced soft drink? I don't think so). We were to take off at 1.30 p.m.; finally, at 5.30 p.m. we boarded. Arrived at LaGuardia, got a cab, arrived at Hudson Hotel, West 58th St. between 7th and 8th, near Columbus Circle (just to orient you). It is past 11 (time difference). Dinner reservations have been canceled. Sad. Greeted by exuberant THUMP-THUMP-THUMP of VERY LOUD DISCO in hotel lobby. Stupid Midwesterners that we are, we inquire: Is there a party going on? No, no - just the club. Greeted by equally exuberant Peter, whom I have not seen in years. Son of a bitch: He looks exactly the same. Apparently, he can pass for 29 ... but gladly admits to 34. We check out the very lovely bar in the hotel atrium (very chic) and enjoy $20 cocktails til they kick us out at the midnight closing time. Check out the loud disco - apparently we can all still dance, even to the endless dance remixes. We were there for, say 20? 30? minutes? Not sure the song ever changed. Checked out the library bar - also loud. So, if we can't hear, then we'll go back and dance more. But no - suddenly the elite disco can no longer accommodate Pete's footwear. Somehow they were acceptable a mere 30 minutes earlier ... their standards are suddenly higher. Maybe they just saw our dancing and have decided not to encourage our participation on the dance floor. Oh well - it's late. The bed beckons.

Grade: A. I know, flight delays. But we're here!

Day two: Friday

So much for summer - it is 58 and rainy today. Which I could not tell from the view out my window, though we do have a window. The hotel room is nice, albeit small. 105 sf, I believe, including the roomy, one-person bathroom. However, what it lacks in space, it makes up for in ultra-modern style. And the noise does not follow us (except in the elevator, which BOOM-BOOMS at night - no escaping the Lionel Richie); the room is quiet. We decide to pass on the $8 bottles of water and go down for breakfast. After seeing the rain, we decide to try the hotel restaurant. Ummm ... NYC bagels! Love it. Wearing the wrinkled khakis that I fortuitously threw in, we head out to MoMa (Museum of Modern Art). It's rainy. And chilly. And apparently everyone in New York is at MoMA - the wait, they tell us, is an hour. Oh, well, what else are we going to do? So we wait ... and it is not an hour, maybe 20 minutes. Score! Though the staff can ditch the attitude: When we inquire - politely - is the umbrella check this way? the guide (volunteer? paid? who knows) says, Not if you ever want to see it again. If you do, go left. Thank you for the heavy dose of sarcasm - next time I'll study the coat check location before I come. The design section is great. Then Peter takes leave - he isn't feeling good (and our Broadway tickets are tonight! - must feel better!). Gary and I stay and really love MoMA. Sadly, Salvador Dali's Persistence of Memory is on loan, but there is a nice 100-year Picasso anniversary on the Demoiselles d'Avignon. Lots of Edward Hopper, Matisse, Gaugin, Pollack ... well, lots of everything. Plus the best hot chocolate I have ever had in the cafe (though I could have done without the draft from the door ... chilly). What luck - no rain, so we walk back to the hotel in relative comfort. Except for my poor feet - the shoes are not working (didn't count on rain or would have brought the other black shoes, the ones that don't look all that cute until you put them on then - wow! they are soooo comfy). Dinner this evening is at 44 X 10, and Peter is feeling better. It is fantastic - I have the lamb and a lovely Shiraz. The bathrooms are divine. After dinner is the piece de resistance: Spring Awakening. Tony award-winner for Best Musical. Our seats were great - orchestra, row O - and the performance was riveting. Great music, great talent. Loved it. Loved it. Highly recommend. Though the people in front of us left at the intermission ... too much language? Adult content? It's no secret ... there were warnings when I bought the tickets. We loved it. Did I say that already?

Grade: A. Fantastic day. Shoe grade: C-. The Anne Klein black sandals are very cute, low-heeled, but in the rain they do not work well. However, for the evening, my feet were fine, and we took a cab.

Day three: Saturday

Perfect weather - sunny and 70. Beautiful. We choose a small diner for breakfast - I love my NYC diner bagels, but I chose French toast. First we walk to the upper East Side and wander along Fifth Avenue. Destination: Tiffany's. Which we must have walked right by - we are idiots as we realize we have walked blocks out of our way. Pete is on a quest for cufflinks. He finds them - excellent choice - and the service is excellent. I carry them (along with everyone else's crap) in my extra-large purse. Restrooms in Saks are very nice, by the way. I love the Upper East Side - I could so live here. We hop on the subway and spend the afternoon in Greenwich Village. We sit and people watch in Washington Square, then walk around, seeing the sights. But where were Matthew and Sarah Jessica? We see Stonewall, architecture, where Louisa May Alcott lived. I could so live here. Head back to change for dinner - JoAnne and Mitchell are meeting us back near the village for drinks before dinner. After several aborted attempts, we finalize details and get drinks, then head over to Brooklyn. Brooklyn Heights is charming! What a view – right over the river into Manhattan. And apparently a deal - 2,000 sf here will only cost you a mere $1.5 million. I've changed my mind - I must live here! Dinner is at Bamonte's, a quintessential Italian restaurant in Brooklyn. Apparently, the Sopranos was filmed here - you can see it if you walk in. Excellent food – I had only the gnocchi after all the appetizers: mussels, broccoli, pasta, bread. With Chianti. And we dined with the consummate New Yorkers - Mitchell and JoAnne are a hoot. After dinner entertainment could have been either a burlesque show or a jazz club - per Pete's request, we ended up at the Burlesque. It was .... let's just say marginal. Next time, Pete, it's the jazz club. We ended the evening at the bar in the Time Warner building - charming. Loved it. Great day.

Grade: A. Shoe grade: D-. The day shoes were fine (white Land's End sandals, very cute), but the evening shoes, while cute at home, and not undoable, even for walking (tan, Etienne Aignier, bit of a heel) were wretched in New York. Damn blister. But they looked great ... should have gone more casual for dinner, but I like the dress. Just had to walk slow ... next trip I'll do better.

Day four: Sunday

Another beautiful day. Gorgeous. We head out for breakfast, choosing a chic little eatery (called, coincidentally, Eatery) – very trendy. I had the sweet potato pancakes with mango guacamole, scrambled egg whites, and Mimosas – very good. Walked to the Cooper Hewitt on the upper East Side, through the park … but the entrance fee was steep for what seemed to be an uninspiring exhibit, especially with no access to the second floor (which is part of the charm of the Cooper Hewitt, seeing the former Carnegie mansion). So, back through the park to the Upper West Side, in search of You’ve Got Mail locales. Pete, the killjoy, tells me he hates this movie – Que? What is this you say? How can this be? No, he says – it’s stupid. He responds with blank indifference to all the best dialogue bits. I will have to ditch him, for the day, from my life. Finally, he says, with much sarcasm, then let’s go to the Empire State Building if we must. And I have a moment of epiphany: he is thinking of Sleepless in Seattle, which is, in fact, a stupid movie. You’ve Got Mail, however, is charming. He has not seen it – he can still redeem himself. So, off we head to Café Lalo, where Meg Ryan waited with the rose in her copy of Pride and Prejudice. A delightful place where one can buy overpriced cakes and drinks. We get Bellinis and try to order. I select strawberry tart, Gary chooses chocolate pecan torte, Pete orders chocolate-chip cheesecake. No. OK, then, key lime pie. Sorry. Umm, anything chocolate? Not for you, sir … kidding, kidding. Third time’s a charm, and he gets some sort of cake. The place is packed – our party and 75 Asian tourists; the movie must be a hit in Japan. We pass H&H Bagels, Zabors, all from the film. I love the Upper West Side – the side streets are so quiet. This is where I want to live. We see the Dakota, go into Loehmann’s (the TJ Maxx of designer wear), see the Dominican Day celebration. Must stop in Upper West Side drugstore to purchase band-aids; cannot risk incurring wrath of hotel staff, who seem to want your first-born in exchange for a band-aid. I’m too afraid to ask for two. At the hotel, we relax for a bit at the rooftop terrace – amazing. The view, the atmosphere, they are fantastic! Then we head to dinner: Destination, Balthazar in Soho. Our cab driver assures us that he knows where he is going, but we are skeptical – he went wa-a-a-y out of his way, much too far East to get to Soho. We are not idiots. It is the worst cab ride of my life – my god, I am about ready to be sick by the time we arrive, $17 later. I am quite sure we have been taken. And not in the mood for any of the fabulous appetizers. Balthazar is charming, architecturally speaking. My college French (13 hours, thank you; passed the exam for my MA by translating the works of Simone de Beauvoir) is failing me – I recognize haricots verts, but everything else is French to me … Gary orders fois gras for an appetizer, which is fantastic. I recover and get the duck Shepard’s Pie, which I am able to eat. Pete gets steak, Gary orders a different variety of duck. We pass on dessert, ordering port instead. Then – lucky us – our waiter, John, presents us with a box of dessert tarts – five of them. When we thank him, he says no problem, just a little something he is allowed to do for the tables he thinks are cool. Hmmm … we return to the hotel, where we retire to the outside terrace. The waitress is unable to secure cutlery for us – the kitchen won’t give her any - though she won’t squeal that we have food. Gary, however, goes to the kitchen himself. Success: He has procured three knives and forks. Thus the leftover desserts go back to the busboy in the kitchen.

Grade: A. Shoe grade: B-. Chose the same white sandals from yesterday, but after the damage from Saturday night, I walk s-l-o-w-l-y all day.

Day five: Monday

Happy Anniversary! Today we celebrate our ?? year of marriage. OK: 19 years. Fantastic years. We are soooo happy!!!! The day begins by hopping the subway to the Lower East Side. Breakfast is at Katz’s Deli – and it is EMPTY! Not an insignificant detail – there is no line! Bagel for me, pastrami for Gary. It is, hands down, the best pastrami I have ever eaten – we tried it a few years ago and were totally smitten. We are even able to get the Harry and Sally table, having what she had … great place. After eating we trek down to the Lower East Side Tenement Museum, which I love (Gary can take it or leave it – he’s been before). It is my third visit - I am totally fascinated by the story of early 20th century immigrants and the culture on the lower East Side. The museum has recreated about six of the tenement apartments, and we find the tour riveting – riveting, I tell you. Watch Godfather II to see a recreation – try to imagine a family of 12 living in 300 square feet, no light, toilet down five flights to the back yard – luxury. Then we walk back the other direction: through Soho, back toward NYU. Walked through the Washington Mews – I could definitely live here. Totally charming. And very quiet. We seek out T-shirts for the girls; we find a shop that has great shirts but, alas, they are not, shall we say, appropriate. Not for any of us. But they are funny. Tee hee. T-shirts are purchased, then we head off to Otto’s to meet Mitchell for the pre-Yankees dinner. It was good; had the waiter not had an attitude, might have been perfect. After dinner we hit the subway and take the F train north, 161st Street, to Yankee Stadium – the house that Ruth built. Home of Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio, Lou Gehrig, Reggie Jackson, A-Rod. Woo hoo – we’re sitting in the bleachers. Apparently the bleacher fans are so rowdy that no alcohol is sold there during the game. Which everyone gets tanked BEFORE they arrive. The players salute the bleachers as they are announced, and the bleacher fans shout out the nicknames. I have to say, Yankees fans have personality – they are funny. Obnoxious, yes (Gary used, ahem, a somewhat different term to describe them). Pete has had enough, but we can’t leave before our host. Looks as if we’re in luck – the Yankees are up by one in the top of the ninth. But no – with one out and a runner on second, the Orioles get a hit, and the Yankee center fielder throws the runner out at home – a stellar play, saving the game and, more importantly for Pete, avoiding extra innings. But we’re not done. The next batter also gets a hit; again, there is a close play at the plate. But this time, Yankees are not the beneficiaries. The game is tied – extra innings, anyone? Pete is cursing. Can the Yanks pull it off? The baseball gods must love the Yankees; with only one out, the Yankees score, winning the game, letting us leave to the strains of Frank Sinatra – Liza Minnelli serenades the Yankees when they lose. It’s a sound no one wants to hear. Back to the crowded subway, back to Columbus Circle, back to the skyline bar. Ended our day with our very first celebrity sighting (unless you count fake Paris Hilton or skinny Al Sharpton) – Carrottop! It was definitely him. He is one weird-looking dude.

Grade: A. I know – they’ve all been A’s. It’s New York. Shoe grade: B+/A-. Wore the very comfy brown sandals. Looked great, and I could speed walk.

All in all, a perfect trip. I love New York, I love traveling with Gary, and I loved seeing Peter. Meeting his friends JoAnne and Mitchell was fun. The city is full of energy, of excitement. It’s my favorite city in the world.