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Home is Where the Airplane Lands

Delta web fares are our friend. 'Twas Mom's birthday over the weekend and so I jumped a cheap jet to the Queen City. Played good son and took her out to dinner. Played Auntie Mame extra good uncle and bought Skyline Chili and clothes and toys and got to be jumped on and hugged and loved all weekend. Gorgeous, but exhausting.

Only downside was i got to spend hardly any time with my sister, which was a disappointment, but I've got her booked for solo time later this year. Those kids are a handful ... and you have to feed them, I'm told, 2-3 times a day. Every day. Crazy.

I returned to the police state NY this afternoon, in time to go to the dentist (no cavities but a periodontal referral, yay me) and drop into Tek Serve for an impulse purchase. I can't get it to register on my existing wireless network. So. Aggrivating.

Admitting defeat, I did a trifling of work and then we went down 8th Ave for drinks and dinner. Amazing to watch the "closed" street teem with cops on bikes, cops on scooters, undercover cops on scooters, MTA buses converted into Police Buses, yellow cabs that are really undercover police cars (very clever, who knew?), and, d'accord, 18 kajillion of NY's finest hanging on baracades, smoking cigarettes, and chatting on cell phones. I know they're here to protect (and service serve), heaven forbid anything should happen, but it's kinda overkill, eh? And where are the cute ones?


Four days and I'm back in Ptown.

Fourteen days and I'm a year older.