SLIDESHOW: Patricia and Erik's New York Adventure
SLIDESHOW: In late January, Patricia and I spent a few days in New York—me for work—but it meant we took separate flights so I had a window seat on the way out. I know this shot is overused but ... It's me saying goodbye to the Cascade mountains ...
... and goodbye ...
And hello, gorgeous! (Click here for bigger version.)
Patricia arrived three days earlier, visiting her friend Karen while I prepped for the Boies/Olson interview, so she was there for the big snowstorm. I missed it by a day. My flight from Seattle to JFK, by the way, took 4.5 hours. Getting from JFK to midtown Manhattan? Two hours. It took an hour just to get my bag. Efficiency not a strong suit.
I love walking around New York because even the renovated buildings (St. Patrick's, above) are beautiful. But it was a bit cold for most walkabouts. I mean, I'm from Minnesota and it was cold.
Oh, Scribners. Whither us?
Even the Legos in New York are big. Don't get any ideas, Ryan.
Our first stop after the interview was MOMA. How many of these soups, btw, have been discontinued by Campbells? When was the last time they made Pepper Pot, for example?
I love this guy. He's got another hole in his rear, and I tried to get a photo of someone looking into it but most were wary of being so captured. As was I.
Love this as well: Jeff Koons' Pink Panther. That's Jayne Maynsfield holding Pink Panther. Or is Pink Panther holding her? And which of them is less real?
It's like an Edward Hopper painting of an Edward Hopper painting.
Over the weekend we stayed with friends on the upper east side, one of whom, Mirra Bank, has spent the last few years working on a documentary, “The Only Real Game,” about a province in India, Manipur, where baseball flourishes. Mirra had planned to visit the New York SABR convention in conjunction with her doc but worried we'd be bored. With SABR? And baseball? Bored? Don't think so.
And who was the guest speaker? Jane Leavy, one of my favorite baseball writers. We got to chat a bit, and, yes, I owned up to my hatred of the Yankees, so she signed my book, “For Erik: It's okay to hate the Yankees. I like you anyway.” She probably has to write that a lot. Her next project? Babe Ruth, possibly. I'm there.
SABR was Yankee country. You couldn't get away from it. It was actually kind of charming.
Not even on Broadway. Patricia and I saw “Wicked,” not “Bronx Bombers,” which hadn't officially opened yet. We liked “Wicked.”
Richard and Mirra recommended Bar Centrale for drinks after the show. I now pass on that recommendation. I also recommend i Trulli, an Italian restaurant, on East 27th.
The obligatory Times Square shot. Patricia's in the midst of getting a cab.
Our last full day when we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
I recommend the audio guides. They tell you not only what the piece is but how and when it found its way to New York.
Batman, 2,000 B.C.?
Even the Met's listing of all its art is a kind of work of art.
The view from the upper east side. *FIN*
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