Was a long and dark December
From the rooftops I remembered
There was snow...
Clearly I remember
From the windows they were watching
While we froze down below
When the future’s architectured
By a carnival of idiots on show
You’d better lie low
If you love me
Won’t you let me know?
Blueshirts skate at 11 after an off-day, and we'll report from there....
Watched the Rock Center tree-lighting last night, and being a native New Yorker, with memories of the angels in the plaza and the rink and the store windows on Fifth Avenue and magical Central Park in the snow, the sparkling tree always triggers the holiday spirit.
And speaking of local color, not sure if you caught Kenny Albert's interview with Harry Howell, some good stuff: Before he was married and moved to Queens, the Rangers D-man and some teammates lived on 61st and Broadway in the the 1950. His share of the monthly rent? $50. That's a tip for the doorman now...
On Harry Howell night, he took his grandfather to Toots Shor's for dinner and the famous host had a half-hour chat with him. So typical of the old-style raconteur.
Putting the whole slewfoot debate aside, did you know that Sid the Kid took a "keyboarding" class at Shattuck St. Mary's? That's from Kenny's pregamer with Derek Stepan, who also attended the hockey academy, but didn't know Crosby.
Hey, I taught myself typing and look at the career arc I've had, from the giddy Watergate years to the last generation of the old-school newspaper crew, slowly dissolving into the ethernet.
But I think I've navigated the bridge pretty well: Blogs, live chats, Twitter, I-pods and pads, a cache of passwords, flat-screen HDTVs. All in a day's work.
I do notice this, though: I do have to drive off the info highway and down to the beach or into the forests more often, just to keep the balance, ya know?
Which is what I'm planning for the next couple hours on this first day of December before deadlines creep up again. See ya soon...