Saturday, December 25, 2004
Morton's and other stuff
Had the best steak of my life, a porterhouse at Morton's on 45th street in mid-town. The office next door was testing its alarms, so we listened to constant frantic blaring and bleeping throughout our fine dining experience. Still did not diminish the taste of that beef. Wow!
Earlier that day I dragged our Vietnamese friends to a Ray's pizza shop and to the Rockettes' Xmas spectacular...yeah, they were pleasantly surprised.
And my wife and our friends went nuts in a store called Century 21 near the WTC. A bit like a huge Filene's basement, they have designed stuff on sale for very cheap. When my friend asked me why I wasn't buying anything, I told him I didn't need to because Thu already had. Sure enough, she picked up four ties, three shirts and two pants for me. If I had bought more it would have been overkill.
Took Cal to the Strand and to Village Books, where he snagged some more goodies such as an analysis of the Vatican II Council and a compendium of Enlightment-era English philosophers. And I finally found Mandelbaum's translation of Virgil's Aeneid, plus I picked up Porter's translation of the libretto of Wagner's Ring Cycle and a paperback of Chekhov's plays. I bought the Chekhov book more for the inscription than anything else (I have a collection of his plays somewhere, maybe in storage): "Ray, you're not mad, I'm mad for putting up with you. But, oh how I enjoy it. Here's to being mad! Juliet."
Earlier that day I dragged our Vietnamese friends to a Ray's pizza shop and to the Rockettes' Xmas spectacular...yeah, they were pleasantly surprised.
And my wife and our friends went nuts in a store called Century 21 near the WTC. A bit like a huge Filene's basement, they have designed stuff on sale for very cheap. When my friend asked me why I wasn't buying anything, I told him I didn't need to because Thu already had. Sure enough, she picked up four ties, three shirts and two pants for me. If I had bought more it would have been overkill.
Took Cal to the Strand and to Village Books, where he snagged some more goodies such as an analysis of the Vatican II Council and a compendium of Enlightment-era English philosophers. And I finally found Mandelbaum's translation of Virgil's Aeneid, plus I picked up Porter's translation of the libretto of Wagner's Ring Cycle and a paperback of Chekhov's plays. I bought the Chekhov book more for the inscription than anything else (I have a collection of his plays somewhere, maybe in storage): "Ray, you're not mad, I'm mad for putting up with you. But, oh how I enjoy it. Here's to being mad! Juliet."
