What a nice day.
But before I tell you about it, let me tell you why it is I wake up freezing cold every morning.
Note the lack of blankets on my side of the bed, yet still intact on my wife's portion of the mattress.
Now then, note again the full coverage on Rebecca's side of the bed and the rest of the blankets covering the floor.
I think we must have a ghost, as I can't think what else it could be.
Anyway.
My nice day.
Firstly, it managed to be above zero degrees for a few minutes and I didn't even have to wear a hat.
Then I had a lovely meeting with Adam Rau, who is a nice feller.
Then I went uptown for lunch with the marvellous Brian Sibley.
On the way I passed these horses who were so horrified by the kitchy shop they had to live in that they staged an escape.
Later I heard they were eaten by lions in the Central Park Zoo.
Brian and I ate at a pretend French cafe that insisted in calling open face sandwiches tartierres or some other nonsense.
Despite such silliness I had a bloody jolly nice time.
We talked about Lion, Witches, Wardrobes, Walts, Poppins, Jacksons and everything in between.
This old codger wanted to know where we could buy a spy cam so he could take pictures of topless sun bathers in France, but only after kicking up a stink because there was butter on his bread.
On the way back, I noted that the state of Tasmania, where I lived for such a long time was advertising on the corner of Macy's.
How nice to see.
And further to that, Cartoon Brew covered my previous post, about They Might Be Giants.
Noice!
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Today
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6 comments:
How is it everybody is friends with Mr. Sibley except me?
By the way, that bed phenomenon is a common occurance here too. I believe it may be a Northern Hemisphere thing? Did the covers go the other way when you were in Australia?
Thanks for a great afternoon, Elliot - and sorry you got left with paying for too big a share of the check due to my inability to remember that service in the US is twice what it is in London, combined with a paranoia about carrying too much cash in NY, born entirely from having seen The Out of Towners - the original that is (with Jack Lemmon and Sandy Dennis) not the ghastly re-make...
Glad you photographed those horses - I saw them the other day making a similar break for freedom but didn't have my camera... Sorry they got eaten, they deserved better...
Oh, yes, and you forgot to say that the Old Codger next to us came out with the equally Old Chestnut...
"How do you get to Carnegie Hall?"
The uninitiated would have replied (perfectly accurately): "One block south and take a left..."
When, in fact, the correct answer to the question: "How do you get to Carnegie Hall?" is...
"Practice, practice, practice!"
P.S.
Bitter Animator is being a bit disingenuous: we stopped by each other's blogs only the other day and left nice comments - which certainly makes us closer than most of the people on Facebook who claim to be my Friends...
As it happens, I could meet BA for lunch in NY today, if he's free... The "pretend French cafe" (as Elliot rightly described it) is one block north from Carnegie Hall! ;-)
Otherwise he'll have to wait till I've jet-setted my way back to Kennington, South London... (It's North Brixton really but "Kennington" sounds better)
As for the doona/duvet situation, I have the very same problem (in that my bedmate steals the doona and I wake up cold). Although in hot, sticky Brisbane this isn't such a problem...
I can, however, say without a shadow of a doubt, that you would never have this problem with a certain little black dog I could mention...
were they French in that restaurant? x
Bitter Animator - You have to be part of a special club that charges hefty monthly fees.
Brian - You may be tipping more than in London but your meal was about half price!
Lauren - Woof.
Stef!!!! - They were not even remotely French. Our waiter was Irish...
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