We’ve got an hour before a Long Island Railroad train delivers us to a Sayville taxi that’ll drop us at a Fire Island Pines ferry and I’m gonna borrow some of that hour to recap an incredible two days.

Umm, here goes.

The Very Special Guest from my last post was my sister Kelly who flew all the way from our hometown to New York City to celebrate my birth. Bevan, Sid and I met her at the hotel on Saturday, dumped our bags in the room and crossed the street to see Jeff Daniels in To Kill a Mockingbird. I am by no means a theater critic and therefore won’t even attempt any of the adjectives necessary to do the show justice, but I will emoji: 👌🏼🎉👍🏾🥇🙌🏻

The next morning we brunched in the West Village, shopped near Union Square and caught the final performance of The Prom, the latter being one of the best experiences I’ve ever had in a theater and one of the happiest experiences I can remember period. Given the production’s fate, emotions were high and the packed house was game to give it a worthy farewell, us included. B, Kel, Sid and I hooped, hollered and happy-sobbed through the whole thing.

I had expressed during this year’s Tony Awards telecast that I’d been harboring a crush on Brooks Ashmanskas, the male lead in The Prom (a role for which he received a Tony nom), and B told one of our friends about it and as life works out sometimes that friend happens to be friends with Brooks so we ended up sitting in Brooks’ house seats for the show which is kind of the insane-est.

After The Prom we grabbed a quick bite at 5 Napkin Burger in Hell’s Kitchen and Bevan and Sid went back to the room to nap while Kelly and I went on a sunset walk along The High Line.

Margs at Mickey Spillane’s and beers at the hotel bar followed.

Finally, we snagged Sid for some midnight mischief around town.

This morning we all shared a quick breakfast then off Kel went. It was tough not to break down when she climbed into her Lyft, but I felt damn blessed/charmed/golden and all the other words in all the other languages that mean ‘lucky’ to have had her there at all.

P-Town Down, Now New York

This morning, after nine dazzling days spent on the tip of Cape Cod, Bevan, Sid and I took a ferry boat to a Lyft truck to a train car on which we’re currently passing through majestic Mystic, Connecticut on our way to the Big Apple where the three of us and one Very Special Guest will shop, see shows and spend a night on Fire Island with the goal of lowering me ever-so-gently into 35.

Elton John Lives

We were mixing whites and yolks for a mid-afternoon batch of scrambled eggs today, Sid and I, when he confided in me his latest musical leanings.

Sid: I have a new favorite decade of music.

Me: Oh yeah? Which?

Sid: The 70s.

Me: That’s a good one. Who are some of your favorite artists so far?

Sid: Umm, Fleet Macwood, Van Morris, Elton John.

Me: You know he’s playing the Chase Center in September.

Sid: Really? I figured he was dead.

Singing! Dancing! Paper!

There exists in existence a live, unauthorized musical parody of The Office and last night B, Sid and I trekked uptown to The Jerry Orbach Theater to watch it and as of this moment I’m still unclear about what caused me more enjoyment, the show itself or the look of pure glee on Sid’s face during it.

Also, did I mention that B and Sid joined me in New York yesterday?


Well, they did.