I grew up in the Bronx on McGraw Avenue, a tree-lined street that bordered the beautifully designed and landscaped apartment complex called Parkchester. (See Parkchester, Celebrate Me Home) There were six or eight stores on our street, a bar called The White Gander, and several private houses with ground floor offices. My dad had his medical practice in one of those offices and we lived “over the store” in what we thought was the nicest house on the block, with two...
Among my friends and the distaff side of my family are many very accomplished women – doctors, nurses and therapists, a pharmacist and a research scientist, lawyers, two judges and a diplomat, a film editor, a TV producer and a theatrical director, several writers and artists, a publisher and two poets. Also a master chef, an interior decorator, a chaplain, a rabbi and two cantors, singers and actresses, several school principals and many dedicated...
Waiting at the bus stop at Fifth Ave and 86th St the other day a young woman, probably in her 20s, asked me where she could get the limited. I told her it stopped about two blocks south, and she thanked me and started walking down Fifth. Then, checking my watch I realized I might be late for my own appointment. Wait for me, I called out, I’ll take the limited too. As we walked along together, predictably, the limited bus went rumbling past. You’re younger, I said, run...
Walking thru my building lobby on my way out to the dry cleaners, I realized my Dominican doorman was staring at the elaborately embroidered caftan I was carrying on my arm, bought by my son on a trip to Kazakstan. “This week is the Jewish holiday of Purim when we celebrate by getting drunk and dressing up in costumes.”, I explained with a smile. “Oh yes, we know,” said our Irish concierge from behind the lobby desk, “because every year just about this time Mrs...
My uncle Milton wasn’t exactly a hardened criminal, but the truth is he was once caught breaking and entering. Most of the time Milt was a mild-mannered, slightly absent-minded professor of chemistry at Smith College and lived with my aunt Roseanne in Northampton, Massachusetts in a wonderful Revolutionary-era house at the end of Popular Hill Road. Once there had been a sign on their road that read DEAD END, but my aunt Rosie was a published author and the chair of the Northampton...
Welcome to my blog World Thru Brown Eyes! Enjoy the read and please leave a comment and tell me how this old world looks thru YOUR eyes!
