Well, prior to today, I last posted on this thing in 2014. That is eight years, not ten. Eight Years After is not a song. The penultimate post, titled METROPOLITAN LIFE, is one of my favorites. I’m happy to say that Mario Batali no longer slings truffles at Eataly, down the block from the Stanford White aerie. The townhouse is gone too. Collapsed. I haven’t been down 24th and don’t know what’s there now. The changes in New York, from the early 1980’s to the early 2020’s, so stark and huge, an Everest-sized shift.
Good at math, my ass
“Grace to be born / And live as variously as possible.” Frank O’Hara
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