When we moved to the Upper Eastside many years ago, we never imagined how much time we’d spend at the 92nd St Y. My husband joined the gym and swam several times a week in the Olympic-size pool; I became a Poetry Center member and 2 or 3 Monday nights a month I heard the most acclaimed writers of the day read from their latest works; and we enrolled our toddler in a wonderful children’s art class called Red, Yellow, Blue and Glue. One year at the Y I learned to use a...