Remember that trip to New York?

I paid a visit to New York City a few weeks ago, and I didn't really write about it yet. So much so say that I never really get around to saying it. And the holidays. Etc. One comment initially: New Yorkers are not as rude as people say they are, according to my limited experience. In fact, I would say that all of the New Yorkers I met were much nicer and warmer than the folks I encountered during my two-year tryst in Boston. I met up with one of my brothers, his lady, and my two cousins and their strapping men; we were looking for a particular restaurant. We asked a man on the street which way we should go. Most of the way up the block in the direction the man pointed us, Kevin and I figured out that we were going the wrong way and turned around. We were then face to face with the man who gave us the directions. See, he had realized that he sent us the wrong way and had chased us down to tell us the right way to go. I had some nice chats on the trains in Boston about philosophy and literature and films and all of that junk, but this man's efforts were certainly unexpected, especially considering the popular wisdom that New Yorkers would rather run you over with their cab than share the time of day with you. This was, to be sure, not an isolated experience, but it was, rather, consistent with the rest of my encounters with the residents of New York City. This could be because the population of New York is, like Boston, made up of tons and tons of people from others parts of this country and other countries altogether. It has been suggested to me that this could account for my unexpected experiences. But for that to be true, I would have had to run into no native New Yorkers all day, and I find that highly unlikely. I have a lot of other things to write about my trip to the Big Apple and some trips around Baltimore as well. But I have a tickle in my throat, so I'm going to drink some tea and listen to some old Paul Simon and 80s tunes. Stay tuned.