How Monet’s Garden Grows (in the Bronx)

Last weekend’s NYC weather was glorious and we celebrated by heading up to the Bronx for opening day of The New York Botanical Garden’s “Monet’s Garden” exhibit. Faithful readers will recall that we visited the Garden a few years back for their floral homage to Emily Dickinson.  The Monet exhibit is less ambitious and is mostly confined to the conservatory, but still worth the trip.

We arrived late in the morning and we were pleasantly surprised to see that there were no lines at the entry. After a quick lunch at the cafe, we proceeded to the Seasonal Walk, which is embroidered with blooms chosen by High Line genius Piet Oudolf and Jacqueline van der Kloet.

A Japanese Maple anchors a profusion of poppies along the Seasonal Walk

I love these but cannot remember what they’re called…

The CE outside the conservatory; Monet awaits inside

The conservatory is the Garden’s stunning centerpiece and was saved from demolition by Enid A. Haupt, a sister of Walter Annenberg. Called “the greatest patron American horticulture has ever known” by the Garden’s president. Haupt, who died in 2005 at the age of 99 (proof that gardening is good for the soul!) is a reminder of why it’s handy to keep the 1% around – it must cost buckets of money to keep that enormous Victorian greenhouse going.

Enid Haupt enjoying the conservatory in 1992 (NYT photo)

I remember being dragged to flower shows as a child and loathing every interminable minute of the adults ooh-ing and ah-ing over this bloom and that, but having long since passed through the looking glass to oldster-land, touring the exhibit inside the conservatory was a delight.

Digitalis and Delphinium abound

Achillea makes a bold statement

I fell in love with all the poppies on display. Do they grow in Southern California?

We were at Giverny last fall and saw sunflowers instead of spring blooms, but even so, this exhibit was more a nod in Monet’s direction than a deja vu. You have to give them an E for Effort, however: they added the obligatory water lilies and koi to the Conservatory pond.

Claude would approve

And, of course, la plus chose importante - the Japanese Bridge:

The exhibit will continue until October 21. A note of caution: if you go, know that you will have to arrange your return transportation in advance. For reasons that remain mysterious to us (and which we had plenty of time to ponder during our hour-and-a-half wait for a car to pick us up), taxis are no longer available at the Garden exit…and it’s a looonnnggg walk back to Manhattan from the Bronx!

May in NYC: In and around the Park

When we were last here in March, the trees were still bare.  But when we awoke and opened the drapes our first morning here this trip,  we were greeted by the lush, green canopy that is the spring/summer fashion in Central Park.

We were also greeted by the progress on the building across the way that towers over Central Park South. Well on its way toward its ultimate (and somewhat controversial) ninety stories of luxury residential space, One57  currently sticks out like a sore red thumb. Just in case you’re interested, word is that the One57 penthouse is available for a mere $110 million! (UPDATE: as this post went to press, the penthouse had apparently sold to a mystery buyer who paid somewhere between $90 -$100 million to live on the building’s 89th and 90th floor. I wonder if we could stop by to borrow a cup of sugar…)

One57 rises over leafy Central Park

We had some big fun in the Park on our first day in town when we walked over to watch grandson Thomas play baseball with his team, “The Slams”. Thomas is not quite seven, but it’s probably not too soon for the Yankees to start scouting him.

Take note, Mr. Girardi!

Look at that form!

Bumpkins that we are, we marveled at the luck of these kids who get to learn the game at the Central Park ball fields. No wonder Thomas says baseball is his favorite sport – if he keeps making those runs, maybe he can buy that penthouse at One57!

Jamesy in the ball field bleachers: already a ladies’ man at age four.

Celebrating the big win with a big bowl of vanilla ice cream.

A few days later, we celebrated Mothers Day with brunch at a restaurant overlooking the Park. It was a spectacularly beautiful day in NYC! We missed having Tina’s family and Taylor there to join us, but both sent gorgeous flowers – our apartment is like a garden this week!

Daniel and Mom

Brunch sculpture – not sure what they used for the fish – jicama maybe?

After brunch we took a walk in the Park – along with what appeared to be most everyone else in the city. New Yorkers know how to enjoy good weather!

Angie and her boys on Mothers Day

As always, loving our time in the city. Many thanks to Lori and family for holding down the fort back in CA!

NYC memory: David McCullough at the Met

We’re back in California, where I’ve spent the last few days sifting through memories of this latest sojourn to NYC. While each trip is a bit different, we’re settling, inch by inch, into patterns that define “living” there from being the greenest of tourists. One accomplishment this visit was discovering our “express route” through the park – a few blocks up CPW to 67th and it’s almost a straight-through to 72nd Street on the East side. Then it’s just another ten blocks up Fifth Avenue on the East side and you’re at that wonder of wonders, the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The Met

Since we visit the Met at least once or twice per trip, we decided to join the museum, which allows us to skip the ticket line and also makes us privy to announcements of upcoming events. And that is how I heard that David McCullough would be speaking there about some of the “American masters” he included in his recent book, The Greater Journey: Americans in Paris.

(image from bloomberg.com)

I called to make reservations for the lecture as soon as I received the notice and the event was already almost sold out. And no wonder; in addition to being one of our country’s foremost chroniclers of history, McCullough is a most dignified and genial fellow and an impressive speaker. And a sweetheart, to boot – he began his speech with a loving introduction of his wife, who was in the audience. He called her his “North Star”. How dear is that?

David McCullough (image from achievement.org)

In addition to writing, McCullough paints, and this most recent book is a love letter to some of the 19th century American artists who went to Paris to further their careers. He spoke of Samuel F.B. Morse, who spent decades as a painter before he invented the telegraph, and he discussed expatriate painters John Singer Sargent and Mary Cassatt, as well as the sculptor Augustus Saint-Gaudens. Before reading the book and hearing the lecture, I’d heard of these people and seen some of their work, but McCullough has the gift of making them come alive. So much so that I was inspired to walk endless blocks in the wind and cold one day to see Saint-Gauden’s statue of Admiral Farragut at Madison Square Park.

The statue of Admiral Farragut made Saint-Gaudens reputation as a sculptor. He spent months perfecting the admiral's right leg and the flap of the coat. (Polloplayer photo)

Saint-Gaudens' statue, "Diana" is prominently displayed in the American Wing at the Met (polloplayer photo)

I don’t know how many times I’ve walked past the Sherman Memorial at the Fifth Avenue and 59th street entrance to Central Park, but I must confess I never really looked at it until McCullough talked about it. He shared that an ironic aspect of the Civil War monument is the fact that the model for Victory was actually an African-American woman.

A fact of fame: pigeons will perch on your head even if you're General Sherman

McCullough went into great detail about Morse’s painting Gallery of the Louvre, in which he “hung” onto the gallery walls his favorite paintings from the museum. McCullough shared that Morse steadfastly completed his painting while the cholera epidemic of 1832 raged through Paris. The painting now hangs in the National Gallery of Art, so when the CE visited Taylor in WDC the following weekend, they went to see it.

Gallery of the Louvre painted by Samuel F.B. Morse

McCullough also went into great detail about the “scandal” that arose over John Singer Sargent’s Madame X portrait.  Even though museum-goers were quite used to ambling through galleries filled with paintings of nudes by Titian and Rubens, somehow the portrait of socialite Virginie Amélie Gautreau, with its stark contrast between her black dress and powdered arms, shocked Parisian society. The furor over the painting eventually led Sargent to depart Paris for London.

In the original painting, the strap of Madame X's dress was shown slipped alluringly from her shoulder. Sargent repainted the portrait subsequent to the furor that arose.

The painting as it hangs today at the Metropolitan Museum in NYC

After the lecture, we walked a few blocks for dinner at Cafe Boulud at Madison and 76th Street. Daniel Boulud’s restaurants span the West and East side, but this one is definitely worth a walk across the park. The menu was inspired and the service was impeccable. We can’t wait to go back.

Cafe Boulud: An East side gem

After dinner, we walked down Madison Avenue, where boutique windows displayed their finery and East side denizens took their dogs for an evening walk. Then we turned to head toward Central Park South and up to our Columbus Circle neighborhood. The evening was cold but clear and we couldn’t imagine being anywhere at that moment but NYC.

It's almost spring in the city: daffodils in Central Park

Happy to be in NYC

Two weeks in New York are like six months anyplace else. Things move fast here! Especially the temperature – one day it’s squalling wind and in the low 20′s and the next day it’s a balmy 60 degrees. Leave it to NYC to have its own form of March Madness.

Baby, it's cold outside! Brrrr!

As always, this visit has been a magical melding of family, friends, feasts and fun. We’re probably bruised from pinching ourselves so often – can we really be so lucky as to live here part time?

We leap-yeared right in this trip with tix to see Venus in Fur, with its breakthrough role that set dynamo actress Nina Arianda on a collision course with Broadway. The synopsis I read promised “an intellectual adventure and an often funny encounter between an actress and a playwright”.

(image from thetheatresource.com)

The synopsis conveniently forgot to mention that the leggy star spends most of her time on stage wearing a  garter belt and thigh high boots or that a passive-aggressive Hugh Dancy finds himself in emotional and physical bondage to this alpha Aphrodite.

Oops. No one told us!(image from meetsobsession.com)

It may not have been what we expected, but it was most definitely memorable, and playwright David Ives navigates the terrain of relational power shifts at a dizzying speed.

A few evenings later, we toned things down a bit and saw Death of a Salesman with Philip Seymour Hoffman and Andrew Garfield.

Andrew Garfield and Philip Seymour Hoffman play Biff and Willy Loman (image from justjared.com)

Still in previews, this production is not quite yet on steady ground. Both actors seem perfect on paper for their roles yet, to me, seem strangely miscast on the stage. But guess who shines? Arthur Miller! The play may leave you in despair; there’s misery a-plenty for anyone who has been a parent or a child, so that covers pretty much everyone, but “attention must be paid” as this is a timeless work.

Lee J. Cobb, George C. Scott, Dustin Hoffman and Brian Dennehy have also played Willy Loman on Broadway.

I hope the two current stars will find their footing and that the powers-that-be will tighten up Act II. Our review: it was “liked, but not well-liked”.

We were especially excited to see our favorite “off-Broadway” stars, namely friends and family. Angie and Bobby had us over for a scrumptious lunch of chicken and dumplings. It was a perfect meal to help us acclimate to wintry weather.

Angie was kind enough to share the recipe, so I have it if anyone wants it.

Thomas, Grandpa and James

And we’ve hit the jackpot with multiple Daniel sightings:

Daniel!

Daniel and friends Liza and Chris after brunch at Artisanal

We enjoyed a lunch with bibliophiles Sunday and Josh, and got to meet their adorable little Shih-Tzu, Marlowe. And I was thrilled to have dinner with friend and recent NYC transplant Teri – we were so busy catching up that I forgot to get a photo, but I can tell you that the city agrees with her. She looked absolutely stunning and she’s enjoying her new life and job here in the city.

The CE rode the Acela down to WDC to visit Taylor for a weekend to complete our East Coast family circle:

Tay Tay!

And that was just the first week!  More to come…

One last pass at Pasadena

I know what you’re thinking.

“Three posts on one measly weekend in Pasadena? This woman has no life!”

True, so true, but I just can’t let Pasadena go until I fill you in on a few more reasons to visit there.

One of them would be Cheval Blanc Bistro, an Old Town Pasadena restaurant that should be replicated in your home town and mine.

Interior of Cheval Blanc Bistro (image from pasadenanow.com)

Like the Parkway Grill, Cheval Blanc is run by the Smith Brothers, one of whom was in-house on a busy Saturday evening (perhaps a reason why this corporate restaurant empire is so successful!)  and stopped by our table to chat. He seemed knowledgeable about the restaurant scene in our community – could we hope for a little Smith Brothers magic to come our way?

Duck confit at Cheval Blanc, Pasadena

In addition to the panoply of fine dining options in Pasadena, they have not neglected to provide food for the soul.

A clear stand out in a standout weekend was the Norton Simon Museum, where we feasted our eyes upon room after room of fine 19th and 20th century European paintings.

Worth the trip just to see Van Gogh's The Mulberry Tree. Photos don't begin to do it justice.

"Portrait of a Peasant" is another Van Gogh highlight at the Norton Simon

As I’ve mentioned before, I “take home” a painting to remember each time I visit a museum. This time, there were two that I locked into the memory vault:

"The Chestnut Gatherers" by Georges Lacombe is sizable and splendid!

No, it's not a Hopper. This is "The Butcher Shop" by Alexander Zerdin Kruse.

Mr. Simon, who parlayed an investment in canning equipment to become a food-branding genius (he put Hunts Foods on the map) applied many of his millions into the acquisition of art treasures from Europe and Asia.

Modigliani's "Portrait of the Artist's Wife, Jeanne Hebuterne". Tragically, she hurled herself out of a fifth-story window the day after Modigliani's death.

Fresh from our visits to the Musee de l’Orangerie and Musee d’Orsay, our impression was that the Norton Simon held its own. We especially appreciated the low-key architecture and the spaciousness of the galleries. I thought I detected a bit of a riff on the Guggenheim in the central stairway design, and the museum’s lovely pond is a heartfelt homage to Claude Monet’s famed lily pond at Giverny.

Pond at the Norton Simon Museum (image from latimesblogs.latimes.com)

We barely scratched the surface at this fine museum, since a pair of spoiled dogs were anxiously awaiting our return home that afternoon. Lucky for them, and us, the Norton Simon is conveniently located a stone’s throw off the intersection of the 134 and 210 freeways.

We hope to visit again soon!

"Art, shmart. Get back here and hand out the pizzles!"

Pasadena Weekend, Part Two: International Antiquarian Book Fair

Many California towns are strung by similar threads. There are your California beach towns and there is the undistinguished blending of the San Fernando Valley communities that spawned Valleyspeak. But Pasadena is different.  You’ll see street after manicured street of lovingly landscaped stucco mansions and Craftsman bungalows, all with putting-green quality lawns where weeds need not apply. And as soon as we arrived in the residential neighborhood surrounding our hotel, the CE and I had the same 1-2-3 jinx thought: THIS must be where they filmed Father of the Bride!

Yup. Sure enough. Here's the Pasadena house used as the exterior for FOTB. "Kek", anyone? (image from hookedonhouses.net)

I’m guessing that in Pasadena, you are nobody if you aren’t in the Garden Club. But two weekends ago, a different kind of club swept through town. It was the arcaniest of arcania, the esoteriest of esoteria: it was The 45th California International Antiquarian Book Fair, and, as card-carrying book nerds, we were in attendance.

(image from printmuseum.org)

Truthfully, I was relieved when the CE began collecting books awhile back. It made so much more sense than his saber-collecting hobby. So these days, when he’s not drinking tea with rug dealers, he’s page-turning with book collectors. The passion was kick-started when I showed him the weekly ad that Bauman Rare Books places on the back of the New York Times Book Review. Soon, the CE had made the acquaintance of knowledgeable Bauman staff member, Mazy, and suddenly we were the proud owners of a fine copy of The Old Man and the Sea.

Since books are very much like potato chips, one was not nearly enough. The CE now has a bi-coastal team of favorite book dealers.  Jerry Jacob of Lost Horizon Bookstore in Santa Barbara is his go-to guy on the West coast.

Somehow, the CE once convinced Jerry, owner of Lost Horizon Bookstore, to pose with Autumn.

And in New York, the CE looks forward to visiting Jeremy at the Manhattan Rare Book Company and the adorable Sunday Steinkirchner and Joshua Mann at B&B Rare Books, Ltd.

Sunday and Josh of B&B Rare Books, Ltd. in Manhattan

It may have all begun with our shared appreciation for authors Willa Cather and Edith Wharton. That itch to hold a first edition in your hands, perhaps one even signed by the author, can be powerful.  Our friendly UPS guy, a collector himself – of old bicycles! – was soon showing up more and more frequently with  doorstop-sized parcels that arrived with postmarks from New York, London, and Paris – Paris, Tennessee, that is.

A shelf of our beloved Willa Cather

Why would anyone collect books at a time when the world has come to be ruled by the iPad and the Kindle?  Good question! No good answer. We often wonder if the books of yesteryear are destined to be the buggy whips of the future.

Perhaps it is the collector’s delight of inhabiting a world apart from the mainstream, full of Delphian allure and shop talk. Like any other subculture, book collecting has its own language: words like foxing, octavo, “tipped in” and topstain. A collector cannot judge a book by its cover because there is no such thing as a cover, only boards and a spine.

The CE treasures this copy of Mark Twain's The Prince and the Pauper that he purchased from Josh and Sunday.

Sometimes the the novelty of an exquisitely dressed-up novel is irresistible:

An unusual edition of "Breakfast at Tiffany's". Those are actual tiny diamond chips on Audrey's tiara!

Can you remember the first time a book really moved you?  I do. I have vivid memories of reading the poignant horse stories Blitz and Misty of Chincoteague and later being transported by Madeleine L’Engle’s Wrinkle in Time. While rummaging around the basement when I was a teen, I discovered a wood-cut-illustrated copy of Jane Eyre that I still treasure. Like multitudinous other adolescents, my childhood friend, Nancy, and I transcended our prosaic Midwestern existence when our high school librarian slipped us copies of Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged. This was not just about reading - it was cartharsis. And that experience, perhaps, is (along with the pleasures of commerce) what drew upwards of two hundred vendors and many book lovers like ourselves to wander the aisles at the fair.

I was amazed to find that Blitz is still in print (image from amazon.com)

From The Cat in the Hat or A Tale of Two Cities, it was on display at this book fair, which drew vendors from as far away as England, France, Germany and Denmark. The Convention Center took on the appearance of a sprawling bookstore, as each bookseller set up a booth with bookshelves and glass cases.

A typical booth at the book fair (image from glendalenewspress.com)

Certain books have a universal appeal. You’ll pay dearly for a first edition of Catcher in the Rye or Gone with the Wind. A fine first edition of To Kill a Mockingbird can cost as much as a car. For many, the Holy Grail of book collecting is  James Joyce’s Ulysses, a copy of which I saw at the book fair – priced at a hefty $425,000!

Expensive! (image from the guardian.co.uk)

It was a visit to book heaven for us. If it’s of interest to you, this insider’s guide is worth a read. And it’s none too soon to bookmark the date for next year’s confab. See you in San Francisco?

The CE outside the Convention Center with a souvenir from the Fair

Pasadena Weekend, Part One

Thirty-five years in southern California and I’d never been to Pasadena.  I’ve also never been to an international book fair.

We killed two birds (not chickens, of course!) with one stone and accomplished both last weekend.

We arrived late morning on Friday and pulled into a parking spot on Colorado Blvd. (of Rose Bowl fame) in Pasadena’s Old Town. The plan was to do a bit of window-shopping before lunch. Since we just happened to park in front of a hat shop, in we went, and a few minutes later we both emerged with new chapeaux.

Goorin Brothers has been selling hats since 1895

Thus nattily be-hatted, we drove a few blocks to our new favorite restaurant, the Parkway Grill. Don’t be fooled by the unassuming exterior – when you step inside, the place is warm and bustling and both the food and service are outstanding. Their Split Pea Soup is the best I’ve ever tasted. You know how pea soup is usually either baby-food textured or treacly gruel with hunks of ham tossed in to make it look like they cared? This was neither. The broth was stand-alone good and there were plenty of identifiable vegetables and split peas with just the right crunch to them. Yum!

Inside the Parkway Grill (image from opentable.com)

Sans hat, the CE enjoys a burger at the Parkway Grill

After lunch, we visited the delightful Huntington Library, although we were so enthralled with the gardens and the American Wing that we never actually made it into the Library building. Mid-winter is probably not the best time to go, as not much is in bloom, but it was still amazing. I’ll stop talking for a moment and share some pix:

They were having a camellia sale at the Huntington. We wanted them all!

Mad Hatter?

Lovely, but lethal. I've never seen such an extensive cactus garden.

How pretty is this?

The CE in his new hat

A guide at the gardens pointed out a noisy flock of parrots that have taken the area over as their playground. They flitted from tree to tree and it was hard to get a good look at them. I have a super zoom lens on my point-and-shoot camera so with a very steady hand and an obligingly still bird I was able to get this photo – I think it looks more like a parrotlet or a conyer than a parrot.

Pretty bird!

We decided to save the remainder of the Huntington’s treasures for a future visit, and headed over to check into our hotel. The Langham Huntington is a celebrated and stately Pasadena landmark, built in 1907 and painstakingly updated. I would hope to look that good at 105 years old.

The Langham Huntington Hotel (image from pasadena.langhamhotels.com)

I must confess, however, that the moment I set foot in an older hotel, my amygdala pulses Danger! Danger! signals to every synapse of my being and I can think of nothing but that image from The Shining. You know exactly what I mean, right?

Yes, this one! (image from vegancinegrub.blogspot.com)

It’s not as if I sleep at night anyway, so not a big deal that I lay awake in wait for the haunting to begin. Other than a few bumps in the night, all was well, of course. And really, the hotel is lovely. I’m just bringing the Ghostbusters team with me next time we visit.

Pay no attention to me. The rooms are beautiful. (image from pasadena.langhamhotels.com)

All this and I haven’t even gotten to the Book Fair. Looks like a two-post for today. More to come…

What Happened in Vegas.

The Council of Olders convened for a Third-Time’s-a-Charm tour in Vegas last week. It was a wild group: the median age hovered right around seventy.  And yes, some nights we even stayed up past 9 pm!

When Uncle Delbert fell ill in November and spent several cranky weeks convalescing in a nursing facility, the CE vowed that once Del was sprung, we were all heading to Las Vegas. Del’s favorite caregiver, Juanita, was enlisted, family members cleared their calendars and, voila! we weren’t in Kansas (or California, Montana, Minnesota or Florida) anymore!

Delbert's idea of home health care

We couldn't have done it without Juanita!

Per usual, we stayed at the Bellagio, which was all decked out with Chinese New Year decor.

Flower child in the Bellagio conservatory

2012 is the Year of the Dragon

Bellagio at night (Polloplayer photo)

Del, Juanita, PG, Gail and Mark have all made the trip with us before. But this year’s group included two Vegas Virgins: Mark’s wife, Jean, and Gail’s SO, Paul. Here’s the gang after a much-enjoyed dinner at Mon Ami Gabi:

L-R: Juanita, Jean, Gail, Paul,Mark, PG, the CE and Del in front

There’s always something for everyone in Vegas. Mark and Jean loved the Bellagio gym; the ladies gathered for manicures at the luxuriant Bellagio salon; Paul and Gail toured the various casinos; the CE played poker, and Del won at the slots. An intrepid contingent of the group headed out one day for a tour of Hoover Dam:

It was a windy day! (image from Jean)

Vegas shows are always a trip highlight for this group. This year we were wowed by Cirque du Soleil’s LOVE.

(image from topvegasshows.com)

And then we were dazzled by Celine Dion’s “A New Day” production. The CE and I had seen Celine’s previous Vegas show, which was terrific, but the new one is truly spectacular. Her coterie of supporting musicians are outstanding and Celine has an unmatched ability to connect with her audience.

The ultimate working mom: Celine

Everyone seemed to agree that it was the best trip yet.  Rest up, Del – there could be a four-peat in our future!

Siblings: Mark, Gail and the CE (image from Jean)

Siblings: PG and Del

There was one empty seat at the table this trip. I ordered a few Manhattans to toast the memory of my father, who dearly loved these Vegas jaunts.  I’m guessing the show in Heaven is even better than Celine.

Me and my father, Vegas 2010

NYC November Diary: Caution, Bad Shoulder Ahead!

Polloplayer is gobbling twice today – here’s a second post to catch you up with our visit to the city.

We arrived ten days ago with an ambitious list of to-do’s: museums, performances, restaurants and whatever else the Apple might be offering up.

Fall color in Central Park

First up was a rousing performance at Avery Fisher Hall by the Vienna Symphony: young French pianist Lisa de la Salle played Rachmaninoff’s yummy crowd-pleasing Second Piano Concerto and then the orchestra played a lush Beethoven Symphony No. 7.

Just 23 years old, La Salle made her debut in Avignon, France at age 13. (image from yca.org)

The reviews of the performance were on the tepid side, but the crowd was more easily pleased – there were multiple standing ovations. We were off to a great start sampling the wares of our favorite city.

And then everything changed!

The next morning, son-in-law Bobby was riding his bicycle to work and took a spill. Big, big ouch! Shoulder broken in three places!

We are especially grateful this Thanksgiving  that we just happened to be here when it happened so we could fill in a bit when needed. Man down + two active boys = one very harried mom! Poor Angie and Bobby!

He looks pretty good for a guy who had a five-hour surgery and three nights in the hospital. Hang in there, Bobby!

Lovely home decor accessory: the torture chair for rehab

The CE went from herding chickens to wrangling grandkids – his managerial skills are eminently versatile!

Thomas, Grandpa and James

Jamesy!

Thomas pummeled the CE at memory game

A rare break in the action for Ang: why is this woman smiling?

We’ve managed to squeeze in a few sightings of Daniel and friends when we’re not playing with the small fry. We met up with them all for dinner at Cafe Fiorello and then went to see Immortals, or, as I would have called it, Blood with a Side of Blood + Extra Blood. A must see for severed-head fans and anyone who wants to see Freida Pinto in a diaphonous red gown.

So good to see the Boookie!

Daniel's friends Mary and Jeff. I hear they're big fans of Polloplayer:-)

And we also fit in a visit to the Frick Collection’s current must-see exhibit: Picasso’s Drawings, 1890–1921: Reinventing Tradition, now through January 8.

Picasso Self-Portrait, 1901 (image from frick.org)

Last weekend we made a quick drop-by to the Met to see the newly unveiled Islamic Art galleries there. The CE was in Oriental carpet heaven!

image from metmuseum.org

Fifth Avenue near the museum was clogged that day with a scruffy OWS group bent on a drum-circle annoyance mission near Mayor Bloomberg’s Upper East Side residence. The drummers were not especially talented and seemed to be outnumbered by journalists and cameramen. I’d give them a ho-hum C- at best. Of course, Hizzonor was not even nearby – he was busy that day arresting a would-be terrorist. This guy seemed more popular than the OWS group:

He's got something to say. (polloplayer photo)

Yesterday we battled the pre-holiday traffic to go downtown for a super-fun lunch at Balthazar with Daniel, Chris and Victoria, who is visiting a friend in the city for the holiday.

Daniel, Victoria and Chris

We haven’t made it over to Barney’s yet, but this balloon next to our building is a reminder to go visit the Lady Gaga-designed holiday windows there.

As always, Lady Gaga is larger than life!

And last night, Taylor arrived. He impressed us all by downing an ENTIRE pizza at Cafe Fiorello.

Yay! Tay Tay is here!

And he came hungry!

It’s been kind of a different visit so far, but, as always, a great one. We’ll take our bite of the Apple however it gets served up!

This full-size elephant at Columbus Circle is part of a whimsical installation of pieces by sculptor Peter Woytuk all along Broadway.

Farewell to France: our last days on the Cote d’Azur

We have so many great memories from our trip to France, but one that continues to shimmer in my daydreams is a walk we took along the peninsula at St. Jean Cap Ferrat as our visit there came to a close.

We began at our hotel, the Grand Hotel du Cap, which is sited at the very tip of the peninsula.

The lighthouse icon at the tip of the peninsula is just below our hotel.

We rode the funicular down to the beach club and exited the gate to a chalky path that meanders below the cliffs at the edge of the sea. Our day was, of course, perfect. 80 degrees, full sun, gentle breeze off the Mediterranean.

There's the lighthouse in the distance

We chose the road more traveled – the path that leads into the village of St. Jean Cap Ferrat.

We had the path all to ourselves that morning.

One of the curiosities of our trip was the vast amount of graffiti we saw everyplace we visited. It is strewn throughout Paris, Provence and, as you see here, the Riviera, as well:

This abandoned structure along the sea has seen better days.

The village of St. Jean Cap Ferrat beckons in the distance.

Overlooking Cap Ferrat's storied Paloma Beach

In town, things were quiet. The restaurants and smaller hotels were shuttered, marking the end of the high season. We found a cafe next to the harbor where some locals were gathered and we stopped to share a cafe au lait.

The harbor looks remarkably similar to Santa Barbara's, doesn't it?

La Civette was the place to be that morning

We dragged our feet a bit on the walk back to our hotel, not wanting the day – or our time in France – to come to an end. The CE took a ceremonial toe-dip in the hotel’s plunge pool so he could say he’d been in the Mediterranean Sea.

That evening, we took a cab into the neighboring village of Villefranche and had dinner aside their harbor at the popular La Mere Germaine.

Our water’s edge table was ideal for watching the privileged folks ferrying back and forth from their yachts in dinghies.

It seemed like the right place to order seafood.

Crevettes!

The next day was our last and happened to be our 31st wedding anniversary, which we celebrated with dinner on the terrace of the Grand Hotel du Cap. It was an evening of gratitude for the wonderful two weeks we’d spent in France and for the 30+ years we’ve shared together.

Decades fly when you're having fun!

Au revoir to France – we hope to return soon!