Sounds good to me too, all you said, and I now love the Frick, especially the grand room.
I went on that to me famous NYC trip of mine, trip of a lifetime except that I didn't meet JoeN and you. (That's when Roberta and I and some others met too.) Anyway, I went sort of for business, to check out two galleries of artists who were going to show with us, one to talk about pricing since they didn't want us to undercut them, but tied to a desire for years and years to see NY again. So not only did I see a batch of museums but Diane and I went through the Chelsea galleries there that year. As mentioned, I went bonkers re the Met. I had trouble in the Frick at first for my own reasons of not being able to figure out at first how to use their what-you-are-looking-at phone thing, relative to what I was looking at. (This all explained in my osso in NY thread back then). But I finally relaxed and caught on, and loved it, and the small interior garden.
Didn't go into the Guggenheim, did go into the Whitney but not long enough. Did go with Diane to the Cloisters on my last day; that's a big yes. Again I had trouble, night blind and some of the Cloisters interior is for good reason a little dark or was to me (the tapestries). But I'm so glad I saw it. For that I skipped trying to get to see the apartment building we lived in, in 1950, which I could have conceivably done with a taxi, except there's some mystery deal that it is not easy to get a taxi near the Cloisters. So I would have had to do that separately and didn't.
Anyway, listen to JoeN on all that.
Frank, if you haven't seen this, you might enjoy it - or not - it's a dense two pages of running commentary about my trip - you're mentioned toward the end of it.
Oh, duh, she says to self..
Okay...lemme tell ya about the mini get-together we had in the Big Apple last night. And before dropping the other shoe...I want to go over the fun highlights.
Joe Nation (Jonathan), Lola (Jane), Blatham (Bernie Latham), and I...met with Dyslexia (Bob) and Diane (Diane!!!!) who were visiting town.
We went to a very nice French restaurant in the Theater District...and had a delicious dinner together.
The conversation was plentiful, light, and entertaining....and we had a serious ball! Jonathan, a serious life-long Boston fan did not seem to mind missing the big game at all, and the rest of us obviously didn't give a rat's a...
So, as I was saying, everything went swimmingly...right up to the moment (after dinner, coffee, and dessert...and just before breaking up and going our seperate ways)....
...when I felt a bit of light-headedness and decided to walk outside to get some air.
I still don't know what happened...because I have not talked to any of the others yet...but I do know that I recovered consciousness about 3 hours later...in the emergency room of St. Vincent's Hospital in Mid-Town.
Luckily...(you might say)...the sidewalk had apparently broken the fall I took when I passed out...and the only thing I wish is that some part of my body besides my face had taken the shot.
But...the ECG (EKG)and the CATscan indicated there were no broken bones...and I had not had a heart attack.
For those of you wondering...I swear: All I had were two beers and maybe three or four joints. (I gotta stay away from that beer...it screws me over every time!)
I'd like to think that I was talking coherently...and entertainingly...right up to the end...but I will have to wait until some of the others post comments.
In any case, Dys and Diane are a delight...Bernie, Jane, and Jonathan always are...and I would do this meet over again in a heartbeat!
So...anyone who was there: Wha hoppened???
My only disappointment is the copious notes that I took during the dinner wherein we solved the problems of World Hunger and Nuclear Proliferation, rewrote an equitable plan for Peace in Middle East and came up with might have been a solution to Paget's Query were lost in the scuffle with the baseball fan with the big hat. She scattered the notes all over 47th Street right after Frank made some comments regarding the shape and size of the hip boots that her mother might be wearing. I've seen some left hooks in my day but the one she threw was a thing of beauty, an arc from out of nowhere. Frank got a much better look at it then I did, he watched it from the time it left the station till it arrived in the middle of the right side of his head. She regretted her action immediately, not out of pity for the man crumpled up on the pavement, but the hardness of his head had just about busted her hand.
So I decked her with a rabbit punch to the back of her neck.
By the time I turned around Frank was already back at the table talking to Bernie after that it was just about like Lola said.
And........... it was scary as hell. For those of you not lucky enough to have spent several many nights in Manhattan with Frank you have no idea of how fit the guy is, (try walking sixteen blocks just to get a burger.) Golf every morning does not make a wuss of a man, so it was very bizarre to see him prone.
Kudos to Bernie for his ministrations. I did think the slapping was a little excessive but it did look like fun.
Uh, about the check, Frank, uh, yeah, you're right and you probably remember the three bottles of champagne? (man, were they dusty -LaFette '54, Jean Claude was crying as he popped those corks -something about the last of an age or something) Anyway, it turns when he said they FiftyFive Fifty each (remember we said that sounded a little cheap?) he meant FiftyFive Hundred and Fifty, so there's that.
Oh, and the burned part on the bar, the crack in the glass of the front door and the owner's chipped tooth. I had enough cash on me to take care of the sidepanel of that BMW, cripes, you'd think that an Arab prince would have had his car puked on before, but no, this guy has to act like it's the first time he's ever had it happen. Maybe because he had the window open, I don't know. Oh, and there was the cover charge to the fine members of our local gandarmes to cover the "pot du chocolatte."
All tolled, well so far, there is no total, they said they's be in touch. Actually we never got to have our triple order of Flaming Phantasma of Wild Chocolate Dreams so I'm going to ask them to take it off the bill, or you could ask them. I gave them your name on the IOU with your address, Apisa is spelled with two a's, right?
Man I love this new PM thing where you just put it in quotes and no one else can read it, don't you??
Anyway, you old duff, glad you're up and around. Maybe the next time I say "Don't challenge those topless dancers to a jump rope contest" you'll listen to me. So far I think all the rubes are swallowing the Frank-fell-to-the-pavement story so we should just keep going with it. Meanwhile, I talked to Ziggy and he said they had decided not to have you wacked afterall. I told them there was no way you would used that golf club to kill that guy if you had known what we know now. Whew.
So see you at the drop.
Frank, I won't be in NYC until Sept 27 when I get off the cruise ship.