Cuando en Nueva York, presione uno para el español y dos para el inglés.

.....We are finally back in Florida after a week in New York which wasn't the best of times according to my recollection.  We are not used to the cold weather; most of the time it was in the high 40's or low 50's.  I once played golf in the 50's, and I thought it was balmy and the coming of springtime, but this time it seemed as though we were somewhere in the North Pole--with no escape nor penquins.  Except for the times that we stopped at the Celebrity Diner, I was being starved.  Saturday night at the reception for the Bat Mitzvah girl, Ally, the food was doled out buffet style.  Except for the potato pancakes, the food was hallucious--at least according to my palate, although most of the guests formed long lines to get at it.  But finally the time came for us to get home.  And that's another story.

.....We had a 3pm flight on Jet Blue, but it was about 12:30 when we returned the car, a Nissan Sentra.  Don't buy it.  Going through security verged on semi-insanity.  Because I have a pacemaker, I had to be patted down.  Well,  the patterer  searched every part of my body stealing at least 15 minutes from my reading time.  I didn't  know the problem; if everyone had to be patted for this length of time the lines would have reached out to the tarmac. I even saw them patting down an old lady in a wheelchair.  Besides, I was wearing a U.S Navy cap with a couple of important medal replica pins, and a pair of wings attached to it. And, I don't suppose I could have been mistaken for a member of the Muslim navy.  And, besides, I did not carry a hoofah pipe.  Hey, use some judgment, guys.  We finally made it home, but not before stopping by Nathan's in Boynton Beach for some good American hot dogs.  


.....One thing I did learn on this trip is that I cannot trip any longer.  It is too taxing; not only for me, but for RH+ as well, what with the packing and unpacking and the lugging of luggage and getting transportation to pick up a rental car and driving through unbelievable traffic for those hours on a Monday, and then returning the car and getting transported back to JFK and waiting two hours before boarding, and add to this, sleeping in a strange bed, and all the other taxing events of the week--and traveling for us is now forbidden.  And another problem is that I can no longer walk very far, or safely with simply a cane--which means, perhaps, that I may have to swallow deeply and opt for a walker (heaven forbid).  But then there's Omar who wrote, "The moving finger writes, and then moves on; nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it."   (There's a lesson to be learned there.)


.....However, there is still tomorrow, and I'm thinking I'll have something to say about Mark Twain's memoirs compared to mine.  It's spectacular. Stay tuned.