I Love Giving People Advice On What

Everything In New York Seems To Merit Preserving. If It's Not Historical, It's Personal. If It's Not Personal, It's Cultural. But You Can't. You Can't Save Everything. You Just Have To Pack It Up In Your Brain And Take It With You When You Go.

Kids Across The Country Have Grown Up Accepting The Idea That No One Can Harm Your Family If At Least One Of Its Adult Members Is In The Shower. No One Knows Why.

I Think That Most New Yorkers Would Object To Calling Me A New Yorker. I Didn't Grow Up Here.

Hey There.' I Cleared My Throat. 'how Are You?' I'm Engaged!' Incidentally, This Is An Unacceptable Answer To That Question.

I Was Taught That Candles Are Like House Cats - Domesticated Versions Of Something Wild And Dangerous. There's No Way To Know How Much Of That Killer Instinct Lurks In The Darkness. I Used To Think The House-burning Paranoia Was The Result Of Some Upper-middle-class Fear Regarding The Potential Destruction Of A Half-million-dollar Westchester House The Size Of A Matchbox. But Then I Realized The Fear Stemmed From Something Far Less Complex: We're Not Used To Fire. Candles Are A Staple Of The Judaic Existence And, Like Many Suburban Residents Before Us, We're Pretty Bad Jews.