THANKSGIVING DAY PARADE, New York City

Going to church on Central Park West affords the advantage of VIP steps for viewing the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. We haven't missed a parade in the last five years and 2008 definitely trumped past years. No rain. No scaffolding. No wind. No getting stuck on the opposite side of CPW.
It was a glorious day for floats and balloons and majorettes. We have fallen behind on our cartoon-awareness and had to turn often to the children for explanation. Once Kylee arrived we had a trusty aficionado to guide us through the Care Bears and Buzz Lightyears.
The balloon handlers were set for smooth sailing this year with the wind in repose. The early-riser below wasn't the only parader in matching-balloon-outfit-fashion expressing his excitement.
The Thanksgiving floats are often accompanied by celebrities. All of us in our separate generations jumped a bit with recognition: Jaclynn for Miley Cyrus, Benedicta for Lang Lang, and me - well, I think I was the only one who shrieked for Rick Astley.



To my surprise, a gathering of birthday cakes stopped right in front of us to sing Happy Birthday! I know it was big news that I decided to celebrate my Thanksgiving Birthday this year but I had no idea the news spread so far and wide.
We were on the lookout for the Williamsburg Fife, Drum and Bugle Corps (right after Kermit!) as friends of friends had a son marching. They stopped for a song just for us and I snapped away hoping to catch a photo of Drew, even though the only distinguishing factor I knew was that he was playing a fife.

The Macy's parade is not a completely altruistic endeavor. Though we delight in the colors and cartoons, it wraps up nicely with a reminder to shop (and why not at Macy's) like an elf to fill up Santa's bag.

BELLEFONTE, Pennsylvania

SNOW! As we approached State College the new-falling snow added fresh light to the ride. And we were able to stop and smell the icicles each time a Penn State student on the way to the football game against Michigan slid into the ditch.
We picked up Shelaine and Elliott and headed straight out of town. Destination Bellefonte - Shelaine's soon-to-be new haunt.
Typically I read up on places before I go. Kind of like reading the synopsis of an Opera before the curtain goes up. It highlights plot twists hiding out in obscure alleyways. We let Bellefonte surprise us and we're delighted to find Talleyrand Park where Elliott received instruction in snowball-making, tree-climbing and duck-chasing.






Bellefonte, home of the American Philatelic Center, was founded in 1795. We love that it's a walkable town with Victorian charm where Sylvia Beach used to hang out in summers while visiting her grandparents at what is now Rifles and Runs B&B.

After checking out Shelaine's new apartment we had to fortify ourselves with some yummy food. High Street Pub fit the bill and even had a free children's menu. Locals gathered around the fireplace with the Penn State v. Michigan game playing on the flat screen above the mantel while we ate in relative peace completely unaware of the score.

It was packing weekend so on Sunday Granny and Benben ran off with Elliott and left Shelaine at home with her boxes!

HUDSON RIVER CRUISE, New York

I always get a thrill when I encounter a mounted policeman, probably because it combines my two fantasy professions: being a cattle rancher and a police officer. (I actually looked into the latter but it was after I'd reached the upper limit of their age discrimination.) The leaves on display as we approached Pier 78 hinted at the glorious views we expected when we signed up for a Fall Foliage cruise up the Hudson.

Before boarding we took a moment to admire the most modern transportation hub in New York City. When I worked in New Jersey I went through these doors for my daily commute. And as my office on the opposite shore was located on a boat - the last remaining Ellis Island Ferry Boat - I lived a rather nautical life for a Manhattanite.
I imagined this trip to be an insider thing to do until I spotted the mini statue of liberty - always a sign that one has entered the "tourist-zone." Indeed, no New Yorkers in sight, at least not the types I see every day on my way to Madison Avenue. Nevertheless, with the mist rolling in, we were excited about the journey.

I pictured us lolling up the river with nothing but the hum of the motor to ease our way. Not once did my picture include a self-amused tour director with a microphone dredging up a running commentary from the Intrepid to the Tappan Zee Bridge. We explored every avenue for escaping his prattle except the obvious option of jumping overboard.

Nevertheless, we enjoyed seeing Grant's Tomb, West Point and a few river front hamlets from our waterview. Just as we crossed under the Tappan Zee (bringing reminicences of Daycroft weekends) our tour director turned off his microphone (hallelujah!) and the rains began. We weathered it on the top deck for awhile, then joined the rest of our sparse crew below where a few had taken to finishing out this trip with a nap!










In short, a beautiful trip to take with your elementary school class or your mother! I don't recommend it as a romantic jaunt. But if you go, make sure you're armed with your ipod and noise-canceling headphones!

NEW YORK MARATHON, Central Park

The first Sunday in November is one of my favorite annual New York pilgrimages. We start the day watching television coverage of the 38,000 plus over-achievers eagerly awaiting the stampede over the Verrazano Narrows, then head uptown to await their arrival two plus hours later at Tavern on the Green.

No, we don't sit sipping cocoa in the garden. We post ourselves as close as possible to the finish line where we can hear the announcer but can't see the Jumbotron or the awards ceremony. While I have met some actual marathoners, we have not yet managed the clout required to get a real seat.


To me it's cruel that the last .2 section of the 26.2 mile run is uphill! And it makes our part of cheering on the runners to their very last step increasingly valuable. A humbling, tear-swelling feeling repeats itself each time a runner hobbles to a walk, hops haltingly with a cramp or crumbles to the pavement and then is bouyed by our cheers and courageously scales that final incline.

Then there are those that wave and smile as if to lift our spirits and encourage us to persist in our chants. And those with novel get-ups that help their family and friends spot them amidst the sea of off-the-shelf track gear that intermittently sparkle their way to the finish.



For hours and hours after the race metallic draped post-marathoners dapple their way across the city. And the sighting of each one commands a moment of respect and sheer wonder at the accomplishment of people who on any other day are regular folks wearing business suits, police uniforms and every other form of regularity. But on this one day they are amazing - they are NYC marathoners.

I abandoned my post around the time the 31/2 hour racers arrived to get a ride over to Jack's for brunch and had my first NYC motorcycle ride zooming up Broadway. (Okay, it's really a scooter but it felt like a motorcycle to me!)