Robot Dance

Tiger Woods, pro whiner

Carnival Cruise Line

What a face…

John Williams’ tuba mingled with taxi horns:

Someone hung their artwork on a signpost near the 59th street bridge… well not so much ‘hung’ it as BOLTED it there — i couldn’t steal it!

When vampires were real vampyres. (As in actually frightening. None of this lame, moony-eyed Twilight stuff)…

I was late to work because of these guys…

The NYC subway tunnel full of pure fiddle washboard joyful one weekday morning. I couldn’t walk away from The Ebony Hillbillies until they finally stopped playing

“We were like gods”

I was standing in line at McDonalds (apparently standing in first position) and a quite old gentleman asked me if i was a dancer. I was not, but I learned that he had been in younger days, halcyon nights. He was Peter Deign and he had been a member of one of the New York City ballet companies many, many years before. He told me, somehow without ego, somehow in simple graceful fact, how they towered on that stage, the ballet dancers, how they strode about the city, how they were worshiped. “We were like gods” And then he shared with me that it can be quite frightening to go out of your apartment, but one must force oneself. I later managed to find a photo of him on ebay in his dancer days. Young, strong, in his godly time — not his now ‘mere mortal’ old age. I have it in a box somewhere. I look forward to meeting Peter Deign again in the next act — when he is golden once more. And maybe I am too.