Fall Foliage

So Wifey and I fired up the man car, and headed to Lauderdale Airport. We got there and double remembered our parking spot -- as we age, things we took for granted are daunting. We got on the Delta Airbus and cruised to Laguardia. We arrived just minutes after Edna and Marc, and our vacation was under way. The foursome shared a cab to the City, and we checked into the Kimpton Muse. It was a hip hotel, and when Wifey and I saw our room, for $380 a night, I politely asked the clerk if we could have an upgrade. Sure -- she said -- we can give you a room with a view of the street instead of a brick wall, but the room is the same size, and noisier. Besides, she said without saying, most of our guests are so busy seeing the city or having hotel relations, the room size doesn't matter. We kept the same room... We walked around Times Square, and had pizza, but not real NY pizza -- we went into an upscale place, and the pizza was dry flatbread type. But then we stopped at Junior's for cheesecake, and it was the real deal. That night we met Edna's daughter LAuren and her boyfriend Joe. They live in the East Village, in a tiny 1 bedroom, on the ground floor. They pay, I think, over $3500 per month. Ah, NYC... Joe is a charming guy Lauren met when both attended Oxford for their Masters degrees. He works in finance, and Lauren works for a global non profit. I met Lauren when she was one, and it has been one of my life's pleasures to watch her grow into a beautiful, accomplished, and charming 30 year old. When I met Wifey, in September of '83, she had just returned from Atlanta, where she met Lauren. Wifey showed me the pictures with near disgust: "My best friend has a BABY, and lives in the SUBURBS!" Wifey was aghast at how someone who was, in Wifey's view, so cool and hip, like Edna, could end up a suburban housewife. Funny how life turns out... We went to a Village Italian place, where many actual Italians talked loudly. Edna was way annoyed -- she wanted to talk to her daughter, and instead heard only echoed Italian. But we laughed, and walked home among the buzz of the Village -- clearly the coolest place, still, to live in the City. Our first night away was over, and still no real Fall...