If you're a regular here IDW, you probably know how much I love New York. You know the famous New Yorker cartoon? In which New York is front and center and everything else is hinterland? Like that. In spite of the dirt and the grime and the noise and the greasy multitudes, I love this city.
This week reminded me why . . .
1) On Friday, I sat in a garden and nibbled my organic salad next to David Bowie.
2) On Sunday, I went to a cozy French bistro with a friend and in strolled Keanu Reeves. (He was playing it cool, though, and didn't drop by our table to say hello. Maybe he just didn't want me to see him with that beard he's sporting and hoped I wouldn't notice. Keanu... I noticed. Everyone did. Please shave.)
3) On Monday, I went to a gala benefit concert for the 92nd Street Y and sat smack dab behind Elvis Costello. And then got to hear him perform for the first time, too. Right. I also saw and heard Dionne Warwick and every monied Jewish person on the social register, from the Bronfmans to the Tischs that night. (Though none of them sang. Which is probably a good thing.)
4) Alas! On Tuesday, my streak seems to have lapsed . . . a friend had breakfast at a table next to Brad Pitt. And then rode up in an elevator with him. *Sigh.* Truthfully, I'd trade David, Keanu, Elvis AND Dionne for Brad!!
But there's still time. And I'm still a New Yorker. Did I mention that I love this town?!
Oh, I know they're just folks, and they put their pants on one leg at a time . . . and I'm the first to be annoyed if one of them forgets that fact. (Aretha Franklin comes to mind here.) In some ways, seeing them in the flesh flesh underscores that fact. And besides, it's just fun.
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