The Luna Park Gazette

If the train I was riding on Thursday morning had been a horse, I would have put it out of its misery. But then again, if I had been riding a horse, I probably would have gotten to work a hell of a lot sooner than I did. I work in Lower Manhattan, and normally it’s not such a bad ride from Bay Ridge Avenue to Rector Street. I get in the first car and usually slide right into the double-seat near the motorman’s cab. If I get the seat that’s flush against the wall, my morning is made—which should give you an idea of what my life is like. I get this seat so often I tend to think of it as mine and I get rather peeved when some thoughtless vulgarian decides to plop his or her carcass on my prime spot. I feel like a co-pilot on an airliner when I'm in that seat, ready to take control of the train just in case the motorman rips off all his clothes, puts on a busby, and skips down the track singing “Pass the Biscuits, Mirandy” at the top of his lungs. That’s never actually happened, mind y...

I stopped to give someone directions on Monday and ended up in a time warp. I had just stepped out of my building at lunchtime when a little old lady stopped in front of the revolving door and asked for directions. “Excuse me,” she said in what sounded like an Eastern European accent. “Could you please tell me where is 198 Broadway?” She was speaking to a man standing by the door and I was about to walk away until I noticed the guy was ignoring her. So I stepped in. “Where do you want to go?” “198 Broadway,” she said, holding up a slip of paper. “My eye doctor is there.” I work at 195 Broadway, so I didn’t think this would be too difficult. My office is located in this magnificent old building in Lower Manhattan that dominates one side of the street. The place is a treasure, with this fabulous lobby that looks like something out of a Cecil B. DeMille picture. It was the headquarters of AT&T from 1916 to 1983 and since they were a monopoly back then money clearly was no object. The ...

I dove headfirst into my comfort zone last weekend and I’m not the least bit ashamed. I know I should get out more: meet people, visit museums, go to the opera, attend concerts, wrestle alligators, and parachute out of burning airplanes. I live in New York, for God’s sake, there’s any number of things to do in this town, including alligator wrestling if you look hard enough. You can probably wrestle an alligator while diving out of a burning airplane if that tickles your fancy, though I don't know why it should. But sometimes I don’t feel like doing anything social at all. Some nights, instead of expanding my world, I feel like drawing it in around me like a handmade quilt. Some nights I just feel like staying home and watching TV. And that’s what I did the last week when Netflix sent me a DVD of old Jimmy Cagney movie I had never seen called “ Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye .” I didn't even know about this 1950 film until a few weeks ago, but it didn't matter. If you’ve got an old ...