Bits and Pieces

Forget about 22 inch rims and a drop top. I've decided that when I have a mid life crisis I'm going to get this hand made La Cornue stove that I saw in the Joanne Hudson showroom in Philadelphia.



There is no place on earth a more perfect and exciting to me as Fenway Park on a summer evening with Dice K on the mound. I'm biased though, as I did grow up in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, beloved home of the Paw Soxs. I have admiration for those young yellow shirts who navigate the stands peddling their goods the old fashioned way since 1912. The smell of the famous Fenway Frank is as seductive and overpowering to me as a trail of freshly shaved white truffles across a finely carpeted dining room. Last night, one of the concession workers deployed a unique approach for lightening his load by repeatedly announcing, "Get your processed meat!" during an exciting 6th inning. He stopped at my row, and said, " See it works every time," as he passed a dog down my row to an eager fan.