Tonight, John and I walked over to a neighbor’s apartment building. Let’s call him Al. We rang the downstairs bell three times, as planned, entered the building with our key, collected the mail, rode up in the elevator, and let ourselves in with the other of the two keys that his wife had made for us before she left for a long distance trip. “Hi, it’s us,” John called out as we walked down the long hall of the apartment towards the dining room where Al was enthroned behind a large dining table strewn with reading and writing materials, a decanter of water, a phone, t.v. remote, radio, back-scratcher, several small bottles of medicine and more. Behind him against the wall sat an …read more of the MV Blog entry
The Morningside Village Thing