Ashy Went to New York and All You Get is this Lousy Blog Post

My trip to Brooklyn last weekend to see Hedda Gabler was mighty fine. From my high chair in the bleachers, Ms. Blanchett was all ears and cheekbones as she crackled with lethal boredom.

I saw old friends. I went to Juniors for cheesecake. I went to the Brooklyn Museum which houses the most amazing piece of yarn craft I have ever seen.

I bought a mess o chicken patties at Christie's on Flatbush Avenue, and believe it or not, the patties are even better now than when I lived on the border of Prospect Heights and Crown Heights.

Later I went up to the Bronx to see Quiconque. We endured the Oscars show dance numbers together ("a whole lotta witches"). Hella was there with her man and she wasn't the least bit bitchy. The next day, Quiconque and I went to the AMNH to learn about space and time and look at cool rocks. Tickets to the Darwin exhibition cost as much as tickets to Hedda Gabler, so we had to pass on that.

And that was the essence of my trip. But what was in it for you? Just this post (nearly a week after the fact) and this observation--nothing can make me meloncholly like Manhattan sometimes does. Maybe it's all those dogs with so little space to run.