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About New York City

I see her—okay, she’s there, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a cigarette. Pretty, pretty good lookin’, I guess—if you’re into that! I’m not judgin’—well, I am, but you know what I mean. I’m thinkin’, “Is this legal? Is this a sting? Am I on *Dateline*?!” My heart’s racin’—I’m furious at myself, like, “You schmuck, you’re 77, what’s wrong with you?!” But also kinda happy—excitement, danger, it’s nuts! Like when John Smith lands in Virginia, “A new start!”—except my new start’s got heels and a bad wig.

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And oh, the Saco River—it’s so lively, ever see it shimmer at dawn? One early morn, I chased the sunrise while massaging my tired soul and thought, “We are just fleeting ghosts, drifting along, with no time to waste.” Man, mayb we should celebrate every drop of water, no kidding!

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