Kente Cloth

I live on Manhattan’s upper eastside,  across from Gracie Mansion,  the beautiful 1799  Federal-style house that overlooks the East River and is the residence of New York’s mayor and his family. On any given day I may see cops,  TV cameras,  and angry protesters in front of the Mansion,  or buses discharging tourists, or dignitaries arriving in limos. And just as often I may see happy crowds, dressed in their finery and leaving the Mansion after a gala event...

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9/11

I’ll never forget the date,  almost 20 years ago,   that my husband’s college roommate Joel came from Newton,  Mass to spend a few days with us in New York  –  it was September 10,  2001. On that Monday Joel drove down from Newton to JFK.   His cousin and her three kids were arriving from Israel and Joel picked them up at the airport and took them to their Times Square hotel. He waited until they had settled in and arranged to come back to...

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The Great Hampton Babysitter Heist

When our son Noah was young we spent several summers in the Hamptons in a rented house a short drive from both the beach and the town. One summer my husband Danny invited his business colleague Stan to join us for the weekend with his wife Lynn and their two sons. Noah was about five at the time,  and their sons Josh and Mikey were probably four and six.  The three boys played nicely together,  but I couldn’t help noticing that Stan and Lynn seemed over-anxious with their...

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The Summer of My Discontent

This was to be the summer I really worked on my tennis game, and planted my garden earlier, learned to play Mah Jongg, and caught up of all those unread New Yorkers. And this was to be the summer I finally mastered the barbecue, and took out my old bike and checked the tires, and did some serious antiquing. And the summer I ordered Tanglewood and summer stock tickets before the good seats were sold out, and swam laps instead of just chatting with friends at the pool. This was...

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And Things That Go Bump in the Night

It’s hard to believe it’s been over two months since we started our unplanned coronavirus quarantine,  and I’m still reeling with dismay and disbelief. And in March I was so sorry to learn of the Covid-related death of Terrence McNally at age 81.  McNally had been one of America’s greatest contemporary playwrights and apparently had chronic pulmonary disease and had overcome lung cancer. In my college days at NYU,  I took a modern drama course with a professor whose...

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