The British Crown is a useless anachronism.

Manna Hatta, as the NAtives called it had several noteavle topo festures that have since been disturbed .Heres an article about the original topo. The real beauty of this area isnt the low relief topo but the clear demarcation line, to the north of which is underlain with unresistant sediments and , to the south of the line, there are very durable rocks of the Manhattan Complex. Thats why there is a clear line of tall v shorter buildings where the Manhattan complex disappears and the building foundations cant be as economically set because theyd have to go very deep to get stable basement rock and glacial gouge

http://www.newyorker.com/online/2007/10/01/slideshow_071001_maps?viewall=true#slide=1

Thanks for the link.

Or Britain. It's true what they say about irony and (some) Americans... as everybody else (I hope!) can see, I was merely handing him back a ludicrously stereotypical view of his milieu from where others stand. And he or she rose to the bait, magnificently.

I don't think Foofie is aware of much that goes on outside the walls of his ranch.

Never let facts get in the way of a good story.

Thanks Tico, New York doesn't have all the good songs. Southampton has its fair share too, unfortunately most of them are about getting out of Southampton.

Shakespeare is more forgiving, and uses Southampton as the place to condemn Cambridge, Scroop and Grey to death.



Well as long as I can persuade Foofie to stay down by the Bayou, Southampton's negative press won't be a complete disaster.

Foofie is such a soppy-girly sort of screen name... are you sure it's a 'he'? It is the sort of name I can imagine belonging to an elderly Barbara Cartland-ish lady dressed in pink and surrounded by an aroma of French Fern, or maybe a rather effeminate 1930s "theatrical" type of person, Noël Coward channelling Freddie Mercury via a spacetime wormhole. (I think it's a "worm" hole I meant there.) Or best yet, a lapdog belonging to either of these. A Peke, I think.

I thought that was Setanta.

Well, he gives his age in Spanish away...

Pace Picante Sauce is the best tasting salsa anywhere, but when I moved to New York I could not find it in any grocery store. (They had Goya, Paul Newman (yeah, there's a Latino) or Taco Something.)
Years after we moved to the city, my ex and I were visiting someone in New Jersey for brunch and there on her table was a jar of PACE.

We made her take us to the store where she bought it.

We bought three jars; they were gone in about three months, the last jar, of course, lasting ten times longer than the first one.

We went back to that Jersey store for more....and they had stopped carrying it.
arrrgggghh.

Joe()Nation

Setanta:
It's mostly wishful thinking on the part of whoever named Wave Hill, Marble Hill, etc. I live in Washington Heights just down the way from the highest point in Manhattan, the site of Fort Washington, Bennett Park, elevation 265 ft.

Don't get me wrong. I run these hills, there is no way to leave my neighborhood without climbing something.
(The stairs up to Ft. Washington Ave number 130, I never use the stair-stepper at the gym.)
But, maybe it's just me, the hills don't seem as daunting as the ones I grew up surrounded by in Connecticut on the Shenipsit Trail.

~
You and Beth need to come to the city for the tour of my neighborhood. (Walter loved it) I'll take you to the hill the Hessian troops climbed in the rain and wind to come at Forest Hill Fort (now Ft. Tryon) from the North. THAT must have been daunting. It's mostly big rock formations with places you might be able to squeeze up and through, though how they did it carrying longarms and ammo, I haven't a clue.

Joe(off to go run the hills of Central Park)Nation

My favortie anecdote of the revolution in New York is when some frigates began landing redcoats at Kipp's Bay. The militia stared for a moment, and then ran away (typical militia behavior). Washington was so infuriated that he threw his hat down, then rode back and forth over the hat, and finally drew his sword and charged the redcoats. His aides were taken completely by surprise, but then got it together to go grab his reins and drag him away. The redcoats were startled, too. They didn't fire a shot at him.

You've got to feel for the guy. He rides up to New York on horseback. Gets to Brooklyn and (after some traitor showed the British how to sneak in a back way) nearly gets all of his troops captured, somehow gets all or most across the frigging East River via rowboats to Manhattan. (You have to stand by that river to understand what skilled oarsmen were piloting those boats that night. The river is in constant motion.)
Then he sees the redcoats not slowing down a bit with the landing at Kip's Bay and .....the sons-of-bitches in his command are running like scalded dogs.

I don't know how Washington kept faith in his fellow soldiers. They get duped in Brooklyn, they get their asses whipped five or six times as the British push up (and down) in Manhattan. They lose every fight.
Washington gets to Ft. Lee just in time to watch the forts on the Manhattan side burn brightly in the night.
He only gets about 2/3 of the supplies out of Ft. Lee before he and the pathetic crew he calls his army head South through New Jersey.
Any other commander in a revolution would have said
"Boys, we've had it. I'm going back to Virginia, pack my best things and see if I can catch a ship for France."

It's an amazing story.
Those were amazing days.

Joe(wowser)Nation

Those were Colonel Glover's Marbleheaders who got them across the river. They did good service at Bunker Hill, too. EDIT: Glover's Marbleheaders got them across the Delaware River at the end of 1776 so they could attack Trenton, too.

Washington was always willing to provide troops and supplies to other commanders, and to defer to them. Charles Lee came with a big reputation (or so he claimed), and Washington gave him command of Forts Washington and Lee. The only thing Lee did was to throw troops into them so the redcoats could capture them. After the retreat into New Jersey, Lee was captured at an inn in New Jersey (best thing that happened to the cause), and spent almost two years as a guest of his British buddies. Many writers consider his loyalties to have been suspect.

Washington then turned the tables completely on Cornwallis (commanding in New Jersey) at Trenton and Princeton. Then in the spring of 1778, Lee was exchanged (bad news). Clinton had been in Philadelphia, but now decided to retreat overland to New York. Washington sent Lafayette to harrass his march and keep an eye on him. They caught up to him near Monmouth Court House. Lee argued strenuously against an attack, but councils of war never fight, so Washington only ever held a council of war as a courtesy--he was going to do what he wanted to do. Well, Lee, although the senior officer after Washington, refuesd to command the attack. Washington says: "OK, Lafayette, you can lead the attack." In the night, Lee came to Washington to say he would command the attack, and Washington agreed because of his seniority.

The next day, Lee did practically nothing. Although these were the Continentals, experience, reliable troops, their officers had no idea what the plan was because Lee had told them nothing. When Clinton's light infantry attacked, they asked for support, and Lee did nothing. Finally, with several regiments in danger of being cut off, they withdrew, and it turned into a route. Lee rides up to Washington who demands to know what happened. Lee starts havering and blaming others and Washington just exploded. He began cursing Lee, and as a life-long farmer, he could curse with the best of them. The boys stopped running, and gathered 'round to see the show. Washington and his aides got the troops rounded up, and they turned on the redcoats and attacked in their turn. Clinton's army got away, but not before the Continentals had spanked them badly. Charles Lee never held another command in the Continental Army.

Washington rarely lost his temper, but when he did, it was, apparently, spectacular.

I can only wish all tourists were like you...

I should be so lucky as to live on a ranch.

At my age, my testosterone level is such that I do not care for whether my screen name is not manly enough for those who favor a macho image.

As you likely know, it was the British women that flew cargo planes (so did American women, I believe) during WWII. So, not all women reflect the demure house frau. Many police in NYC are women and do an equal job to the male officers. I think the same goes for England. I believe a culture can be measured by how much equality it gives its women. That being said, the world can be sorted into those two columns, and in my opinion, those cultures that give women equality are usually the same cultures that are allies, or at least not potential problems in the world.

Strong, smart women make for a better future generation.

You live in a typical NYC ranch down by the bayou, you're not fooling anyone.

I'm tour phobic. I would asphyxiate myself on the cruises CI takes. Not entirely kidding. On the other hand, that is right for him, and he has explored many places. (CI and I have met and are pals.)

I once won a weekend coach trip to Amsterdam. We told the courier we were off to do our own thing, and would meet up at the end of the day. When we got off, the rest of the coach looked at us with complete incredulity.