I met a couple from Connecticut. He was dressed as something resembling a Scottish Viking (if there is such a person) wearing a helmet, kilt, among other things.

His companion was dressed all in silver and reminded me immediately of the Chrysler Building, my favorite skyscraper.

I smiled. “Are you folks in a show, by any chance?”

“No,” they said. “We just came from a wedding.”

OMG. Can you imagine that wedding party?

Only in New York.

Here, at Rockefeller Center, is considered my happy place.

Marjorie and I always found our way here, on every trip up to the Big Apple. The Today Show at 6:15 AM, if we were ambitious. St. Patrick’s Cathedral, just across Fifth Avenue. Saks. FAO Schwarz. And always, eventually, a bench in the Plaza, looking out at the golden statue of Prometheus and the skating rink, with 30 Rock straight above.

Getting here this trip, with Christine, was its own adventure.

“Walking distance,” they’ll tell you. Six blocks from the Edison Hotel — 47th to 50th (that’s the easy part), then Seventh Avenue to Fifth. What they neglect to mention is that avenues are three times longer than streets in Manhattan. So-called “walking distance” is a relative term. Different for this octogenarian than for me in my 50’s.

Six blocks/26.2 miles. 

Same thing.

We arrived around eleven. Lovely morning. Christine went off to Saks and FAO Schwarz to shop for her grans. I found my bench.

I sat. I watched people.

Within a few minutes, I’d met a couple from Little Rock and a woman from Honduras. Then came the couple from Connecticut.

You already know how that went.

Christine returned a while later carrying an FAO Schwarz bag. Grandma had been busy. We sat a spell, then noticed the taco stand nearby. A fine choice for a light lunch.

Then came the trudge back to the Edison.

Six blocks.

Yes. Rockefeller Center is still my happy place.

Enuf.