With Apologies To Maureen Dowd

The first useful trick I learned as an aspiring journalist was cynicism. No, that’s not quite right. Off-handed, world-weary cynicism. That was the ticket. Of course, everyone knows that Madoff is hardly the first upper-crust hustler to pull off a Ponzi scheme.

Sigh. Recalculating….Where I'm Going In 2009

 My first run-in with a global positioning device was last fall in Warwick, Rhode Island. Yes, I still use maps printed on paper. You’ll see why after this story. I was in town for the grand opening of a NYLO hotel with my sister, Betsy, and brother-in-law, John, who is the company’s CEO. The next morning Betsy, her friend, Bebe, and I decided to poke around Providence.

 Off we went in my rental car, entrusting ourselves to a rented Garmin. She—the device had a female voice—got us there. But there were a few wrong turns along the way. And each mistake earned me Ms. G’s contempt.

Christmas and Loss

      I went to a funeral today—the husband of P., a woman who long ago reached out in a characteristically big-hearted way to become my friend. A fairly new, uncomfortable suburbanite in Maplewood, NJ, I had begun attending an aerobics class in the basement of a nearby church at the suggestion of my only friend in town. All of us aerobicizers were crazy about this class because of the charismatic teacher, the childcare and the endorphin rush at the end of class.