A DAY IN "THE LIFE OF RILEY"

On the heels of a lovely BIRTHDAY EXTRAVAGANZA and a bittersweet THANKSGIVING, I found myself on an emotional rollercoaster. From day-to-day – since last weekend – it’s been quite a ride. I’ll just reflect on what I can recall.

Early in the week, I had the chance to hit Jay Z’s club 40/40 for friend Nelson Boyce’s birthday party. He’s an exec at Nickelodeon’s tween brand N. He’s a great character of guy and I’m happy to know him through my “amazing grace” Nichole. Nelson and his wife Michelle are New Rochelle-ites, like my Nichole. With that, I’ve had the opportunity to really get to know some of her closest friends, like the guest of honor, Monica (pictured with me) & Brian; & Miss Cynthia. I invited my friend Carl Nelson to join me. He’s what I call a platonic boo as sometimes even I want someone – a social escort -- on my arm for companionship and interaction, even though there’s no hanky-panky. We all laughed and chatted as light bites were passed around Jay’s room, one of the V.I.P. spaces upstairs. And most importantly, Nelson had a great time as folks cheered him on. Though black doesn’t crack (and he’s looking good), he spoke jokingly of how each of us may be responsible for the little bits of gray that are beginning to grow onto his crown.

Well, I mentioned last week about the late, great Gerald Boyd, who was the highest ranking editor of color at the New York Times. His widow Robin Stone is a dear friend. I wanted to simply be there for her. I got the chance to be a difference inside of some components she needed for the funeral and the memorial. I initially wasn’t supposed to be in town for the memorial (as I had an assignment in Louisiana), but scheduling would change and allow me to be in place for both services, which were sad, but very inspiring as the cream of the journalism crop gathered to pay their respects. Most impressive at the funeral was Gerald and Robin’s son, 10-year-old Zach who gave a speech that made us all cry alongside smiling. Death continues to be a part of life. For me, in losing a mom in my early ‘20s, I find myself a little strange in wanting to be there for folks who lose their loved ones, but conjuring up the pain from my own losses at the same time. Feedback of all feedback in the way of love and kindness showed up when Robin asked me to ride in one of the six family cars that they had in place to commute people from the Boyd home to the church, then to the cemetery followed by a repast at soul food giant Sylvia’s. I was touched. Meanwhile, the memorial (which was open to the public), brought in 500 or more of Gerald Boyd’s friends, family, and colleagues. It was held at the Schomberg Museum in Harlem and was very much a “family reunion” for those of us who have volunteered with the New York Association of Black Journalists over the years. So great to hug these folks with whom I’ve organized dinners and panels and programs… one more time. Tomorrow isn’t promised. What a treat to see them all again.

On the heels of that very long Wednesday (of the funeral), I previously committed to attend the Emery Awards, which honor people who support LGBTQ youth. The event is put on by the Hetrick-Martin Institute, which is the umbrella to the Harvey Milk High School I attended last week on the eve of Thanksgiving. Executive Director David Mensah graciously gave me two tickets to enjoy the event. I took another platonic boo Frankie Edozien, who is founder of the African Magazine and a city hall reporter. Many of the staff and kids came up and greeted me warmly from having read the write-up I did on them here in THE LIFE OF RILEY. I appreciated that feedback. But I also got a kick out of seeing some of my favorite gays and gay supporters. Former “Oz” actor who played the priest, B.D. WONG (pictured with Frankie and me), for example, was in the house. And I got to dance with him a little bit. Margaret Cho was the host and very irreverent and funny about ‘the gays’. Whoopi Goldberg opened the night, questioning the producers on why they wrote the word “bling” for her – the black woman – to say. Funny! Also there, Kimora Lee Simmons, who I’ve interviewed before and have had the chance to know socially (along with her ex-husband Russell Simmons). She presented an award to a brilliant young man named Luna Luis Ortiz, who is a photography teacher at Harvey Milk, his alma mater. The 30-something too has been HIV + for over 20 years (having contracted it as a teen). With that and the powerful choices he’s made for his life, he is a role model for all young people and makes sure to use his art and gifts to help kids learn more about the disease and its impact on them (whether they are HIV+ or not). His work has been therapeutic to many young LGBTQ kids around town and has generated some amazing artwork and photography. After Kimora did her presentation, some “voguers” from the school came out and did a fierce “overture” for his runway to the podium. Just a lovely and lively moment for the evening, which also featured other performances of song, dance, and drama from the high schoolers. And they were just loving being in the light and receiving the standing ovations for their awesome performances. Darryl Stephens and Doug Spearman, Noah and Chase from “Noah’s Arc” were there to present an award to LOGO, which as of last Wednesday had yet to renew “Noah’s Arc”. They say the decision is coming in a few weeks. I hope it gets picked up. This last season, the second for the series, was just too exciting and short for me. Kimora also played “auctioneer” alongside Margaret Cho and came into the audience to shame some of the “big willies and willie-menias” into bidding on some pricey fare. Nothing less than $6,000 was sold. But a man at my table bid on something – I think being able to design your own pair of Levi’s jeans – for $12,000. Lots of deep pockets that benefited the Hetrick-Martin Institute, which raised $1,000,000 dollars towards its programs. Go to www.hmi.org/ for more information.

You'll recall, the other week, I told you how Nichole and I popped by "MY" N, the boutique in Harlem that I love so much. (http://nharlemnewyork.com) The store was hosting a trunk show showcasing the cutting-edge tailoring of "American Chang" blazers and sportscoats. From patchwork to hoods, this contemporary sportswear impressed us. And I promised I'd own one very soon. Well, now I do along with another nice birthday gift from my peeps at N. Here, N owner Nikoa Evans and my personal shopper/friend/stylist/TV star Jamar Dunnigan hand over my goods... and pose! I told y'all my birthday extravaganza is going to go on and and on and on and on... SMILE!

My birthday is November 19th, but to know me is to know that I celebrate for many days before and after. In fact, I let the spirit of the celebration go from a week before the natal anniversary all the way to Christmas Eve. Then, the next day, December 25th, I choose to give Jesus Christ his props and let the 'birthday extravaganza' concept get tossed to someone else. This year was really special and I hoped it would be. My 1995 was buried inside of so much grief in the wake of losing my soul mate Kodjoe earlier in the year (Easter Sunday to be exact). Last year, it took a lot of nudging and suggestion from my dear friends to get me to acknowledge and reflect on my 35 years. My Nichole, Ern, Tata, and others felt that - despite the year's sadness - I should take a blissful moment. So, Nichole hosted night one's festivities at her home --- all themed around one of my biggest inspirations Diana Ross. We listened to all things Ross before watching inspired excerpts from my favorite Diana concerts. Then, the next night, many friends - new and old - gathered into Blue Fin's "Red Room" for a lovely dinner. We truly had a blast.

Fast forward one year, we have the chance to see God's grace, love, and light at work. I have a new boyfriend now. His name is Anthony. In fact, before year's end, he showed up as we were both covering "The Color Purple" which premiered on Broadway December 1st. In the course of the months that would follow and lead up to this year's birthday, we have gotten to know each other (from across the miles. This is a long-distance relationship) and we have grown closer and closer with each day.  We got to celebrate his birthday here in NYC back in April. And after months of intimate and sometimes flossy connection - from a spiritual retreat in Crestone, Colorado to an all-expenses paid trip for two to Maui, I would have told you that my BIRTHDAY GIFT showed up way ahead of schedule inside of Anthony. Out of such darkness in losing Kodjoe, I have truly been blessed with the presence of someone who I consider kindred and special. Moreover, inside of the promise that tomorrow won't provide nor negotiate, Anthony and I take full advantage of our present moments. Not that life hasn't doled out a  slew of challenges and stretches for us to overcome, but with each other (and to each other) -- despite our respective paces -- we are loving each other boldly and in the NOW.

Though I didn't want a party this year, Anthony felt I should still do the weekend like it's golden. I was still non-committal and not quite as open to what that possibility could look like, but I thawed out to have joy show up in as many casual and stress-free ways as possible. With those sentiments in mind,  Anthony recommended some things we could do and our weekend was set. He arrived on Friday and it was on. He surprised me with even more than the GIFT OF HIM (all I required). He gave me some cool clothes made by BROWN SOUND, including some really hip T-shirts. He also totally surprised me with  a state-of-the-art iHOME2go, the portable system for my iPod. Once we pulled ourselves together, I put on one of my best, new ensembles care of Harlem-based N, my favorite boutique and my driver and friend Owen chauffeured us over from my co-op in Ridgefield Park to my friend Carl Nelson's penthouse apartment in Harlem U-S-A. He welcomed another couple of which Anthony and I are fond: Jason and Marqise, who didn't come empty-handed. They bought me a bottle of Moet & Chandon to enjoy at my leisure since they always make sure I have champagne when I visit their home (They have it just for me and make sure that no one else gets it. They really make me feel special when I'm with them). Carl also surprised me with my best 'girlfriend' Nichole, whose appearances in 'my life' are becoming quite legendary in "The Life of Riley" blog (She's always around and loving the feedback as I chronicle my life and her role in it. Not too much, boo! LOL!). To know Carl (as I chronicled another of his events a few weeks ago when we celebrated the launch of a new Gandhi book) is to know that he does everything with attention to detail and elegance. So, we first partook of a lovely aperitif of 12-year-old whiskey with a splash of cranberry juice (No hybrid as Carl knows I don't do Cran-Grape or Cran-Raspberry. Just Cranberry). He calls the drink  Adewale named for "Oz" and "Lost" actor Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje for whom Carl recently made the concoction (to much praise). We nibbled on aged cheese and grapes as he worked on the appetizer, a healthy portion of seared shrimp atop a bed of greens (accented with red peppers). The main event was one of my Carl Nelson favorites: tender and juicy salmon with pasta and steamed vegetables. A bottle of red and a bottle of white ensured we held our 'elevated moods' from that 'grown & sexy' cocktail off the top of the day. Then, a flaming 'bananas foster' shocked us all into a "stop! drop! and roll!" pose as Carl put our dessert on performance. BRAVO (to the dessert and to Carl for such a lovely kickoff to a great weekend).

From Carl's, we all visited BBraxton's new male grooming salon (about which I recently wrote) and N (where my friend Terry surprised me with a Harlem-based B. Oyama shirt. It was a plaid with hints of blue, brown, and orange - all my favorite colors). After that Harlem day, we opted to forego the "Black Style Now" exhibit at the Museum of New York City to land back on schedule for our 'karaoke hour' at MUSE (in Chelsea across from the Fashion Institute of Technology). My friend Kamaria joined us on the heels of her workday along with the rest of our posse from earlier. My Anthony didn't sing, but kept selecting great tunes for me to sing to him and the rest of the group. Coupled with more cocktails, this made for quite the blast before we segued to dinner of contemporary Mexican and margaritas. DOS CAMINOS is a spot we've all enjoyed over the last year, but we were trying out the new location (50th and 3rd Avenue) for the first time on Friday. Other friends like Ern, Kimberly Jajuan, Michael K. Watts, Adrianne C. Smith, Tina, and Geva joined the party with gifts, cards, and love in hand. We nibbled on some mild (for me) and spicy guacamole, which is prepared deliciously fresh on-site. And beyond margaritas, we received complimentary champagne and desserts from one of BR Guest Restaurants' managers Lisa Curry, who is the wife of  videographer and friend James Curry with whom I work often on New York City shoots. On the heels of our meal, we did some meat-packing district club hopping. But Anthony and I soon bowed out to join friends Mario, Derrick, and Melvin at the Chelsea lounge "g" before we all segued up to "No Parking" in Washington Heights. Though we enjoyed the scene, the day had been long. So, we soon retired for the night - knowing 'the sun would come out tomorrow' (and so would we).

Saturday was what I might exclaim "... a new day!!!!!". For old time's sake (or every-Saturday's-sake), I brought Anthony in to Ern's, Tata's, and my Saturday tradition of doing Houston's Restaurant, but to shake it up, we went to one of Manhattan's locations (instead of our Hackensack, New Jersey locale, which is connected to Riverside Square Mall). Like usual, I got the Firehouse Chili (which is only available on Saturday) and 'the flying chicken basket' (chicken tenders and fries). Sufficiently full, Anthony and I bid Tata and Ern ado as we headed for Brooklyn. The thought is we'd casually saunter through the Fort Greene area and say hi to Moshood and then, go to Annie Leibowitz's photo exhibit at The Brooklyn Museum. However, my friend Katti (who wrote the NEWSDAY column on "The Life of Riley") told us we could pop by as she had 'a circle of sisters' coming over to her Prospect Heights apartment to celebrate her leaving the area to be a homeowner in upstate New York. Feeling like we were crashing, we went anyway - knowing she wanted to meet Anthony, but also being clear that we were only going to be there for a short time as we had 8:00 pm dinner plans. Anthony would go on to say that having 'access' to this impressive group of about six, mostly single, church-going women, was rare and special. It felt like we were flies on the wall. Clearly, when they gather, it's their moment to "exhale" away from men and say what it is that they want about being single, perhaps dating, their professions, etc. And here, with two foreign energies (for this type of gathering's purpose), these women continued to show up 'open' and 'vulnerable'. And let them tell it, they appreciated being able to bounce their thoughts, breakdowns, and breakthroughs off of us. They were all very much their own women, professionally. One is a temp. Two of the ladies I actually know from the media world. Another two are heading up divisions of corporate brands like Verizon or American Express. One impressive wonder is a former scientist turned banker turned entrepreneur. But they all came to this space of 'woman power' with their most authentic thoughts about their faith in God, their love of men, their concern for their communities, and their support of each other. Ironically, one African American woman (by way of British and Caribbean rearing) in her early '40s (but looking not a day over 25) works at a bride magazine. Though she has a boyfriend, she has never been married and is not counting down to a wedding day. Still, through her work and filter, she has an idea of what she wants for her wedding (look and ceremony), but also what she wants for her marriage. And given she has this inside, behind-the-scenes view of it, she's learning from many women's mistakes. Much of what I do as a journalist who often interviews women places me with this demographic, but I must admit this level of access and intimacy, as Anthony pointed out, is pretty unprecedented. Truth be told, since Katti and I are so close (and got our one-on-one time to catch up in the kitchen as she prepared crab cakes, wings, and salad for her guests' consumption), this moment read like 'our conversations' : AMPLIFIED many times over!!!! And it was music to our ears. In fact, Katti was playing the songs of a South African woman who - via this two-disc CD - was celebrating all things around WOMANHOOD and the women on whose shoulders she stood.  The overall evening - from ambience to cuisine to conversation - was a gift to me. And if it weren't for our next commitment, we might have stayed right there to hear the... '... rest of the CD" (and the companion soundtrack that was these women's lives).

But onward, we journeyed in Brooklyn to Olea Restaurant as we enjoyed spending time with my friend Jabu, who I met through Nichole. She was visiting us from Seattle and celebrating her birthday, which falls the day before mine. With mutual friends all gathered for Jabu, she - who gifted me with a dozen roses - and I felt the love. Nichole's husband Tony Shellman stopped by to express his birthday sentiments to Jabu and me. He was looking every bit the walking billboard for Parish, the new clothing line he's just launched (See previous "Life of Riley" entry). And since Anthony nor I were all that hungry (given we'd been eating at different locations since noon), we were fed spiritually by a friend of my friend Monica, Melony, who just two weeks ago, moved here from South Africa with her husband. We were seated next to her at the dinner and continued to bond and chat with her en route and at our post- sets "Mo's" and "Frank's Place", both Fort Greene watering holes. At the stroke of midnight, they all wished me a HAPPY BIRTHDAY as November 19th is the actual day. From there, Nichole dropped Anthony and me off to "Dillon's" in Manhattan for our post-post-set. Here, we enjoyed a Scorpio- themed party with two of our three friends from the night prior, Melvin and Derrick. Derrick, in fact, graciously brought us home.

We woke up a bit exhausted on my actual birthday from the exhaustive yet fun-filled days prior, but Anthony  and I got ourselves together for a lovely brunch at "Day-O", a Caribbean/Soul Food spot in The Village. Theo, Geoffrey (one of Kodjoe's best friends, who got me a lovely wool scarf with little pockets on each end of it), and two of Anthony's friends Lonni and Carmelli joined us. The highlight (the love and company notwithstanding): The DVD "Lady Sings The Blues" piping from the half dozen or so flat screens throughout the restaurant. Of course, this distraction pulled me away from conversation. Fortunately, everyone was equally distracted... and entertained. Speaking of entertainment and divas, Anthony and I had tickets to see Eartha Kitt at the World Stages Center on 50th Street. She stars in "Mimi Le Duck", a whimsical, quirky musical in which she portrays an American-born, Parisian-based expatriot (a la Josephine Baker), who owns a bed-and-breakfast where Ernest Hemmingway supposedly wrote some of his classics. She sings, poses, and purrs to legendary effect. One standing ovation later, Anthony and I grabbed a quick drink at The Hangar on Christopher Street before joining Tata, Lonnie, Carmelli, and the man who introduced my latest karaoke jones to me, Dante. This time, we had even more fun. Anthony actually sang this time. I did an encore of Jennifer Holliday's "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going" since it was so well-received on Friday. But my Maxwell's "This Woman's Work" (as selected by Anthony) knocked their socks off. I might have to add that into my repertoire.

With little steam ahead, we soldiered on to our 'last supper': Italian tappas at "Vento" (again, receiving complimentary champagne and desserts from The Currys). This meat-packing district spot capped off what was truly an eventful, stress-free, and funfilled weekend. Gifts showed up in more ways than wrapped boxes (though Tata hooked me up with a fierce, six-piece luggage collection for my non-stop travel. Yes, the luggage I had was jacked up. But not anymore. Also, I should shout out Tina Alexis for the inspired piece of art "Adam and Steve", which she commissioned New Jersey-based fine artist Kevin McKinney to do for me - www.The-Art-of-Art.com). Time with Anthony and all my friends made it perfect. Well-wishers who showed up in so many ways, whether via phone, text messages, calls, and e-mails were the icing on the sheet cake. By the way, there was no birthday cake. Still, lots of dessert. (Mind your business...).  

I was in Cleveland for a shoot. Actually, I flew into Cleveland, but had to drive one hour and fifteen minutes to Canton/Akron. (Don't ask). But as I did my best to stay awake, driving my rental car on a very industrial-looking  highway of construction, I felt like Dorothy and the gang when after their travels on the yellow-brick-road (warding off lions and tigers and bears), they set their eyes on the beautiful skyline of Emerald City. The sight I saw didn't carry the massive expanse of The Wizard's address. In fact, what I saw had more of a "dwarfing" effect. It was fast-food giant "Chick-fil-a", which I don't have easy access to in New Jersey. So, I went against the grain of my mapquest directions, to have some breakfast. I normally get the "Chick-fil-a" biscuit, but opted for the 'mini-chicks' this time coupled with hash browns and "sweet tea" (another staple that is hard to come by in New York and New Jersey). It all reminded me of being in Savannah and knowing that if we had "Chick-fil-a", it was a special, albeit casual, occassion. Somehow, McDonald's and Burger King were something you could roll through anyday. "Chick-fil-a" was to be revered and used sparingly, like fine China. And how excited were we when we'd park on the Sears side of the Oglethorpe Mall. We'd walk out of Sears into the mall where - to our right - was "Chick-fil-a" and if there was a worker out in the mall, passing out samples of the chicken, you could rest assured, I would visit that plate as many times as it took to get full (since usually, those days were not the days that we were going to "Chick-fil-a"). Moreover, I just find it to be the most consistent, quality fast-food I know. And I enjoy everything it delivers - from the fresh sandwiches to the waffle fries to the lemonade to the lemon pie. In July, my boyfriend and I went on a Buddhist meditational retreat in Crestone, Colorado. One of its features was three, vegetarian meals a day. We went along with the program and enjoyed the vegetarian pasta (w/ tofu) and the fruit tarts and the soups that boasted bases of celery and sage. Generally, it was good stuff. But as soon as we made it back to Denver, we high-tailed it to "Chick-fil-a" for our 'protein'. And it did the trick. For me, it always does. And it's probably a good thing that it isn't nearby because I would be flying away right now, literally. But I'm traveling so much these days, I keep running into them. Just the other day, after I wrapped a shoot in Philadelphia, I yet again found myself passing one. I began to have an internal conversation with myself about whether I should have the driver turn around or keep going to our destination. After two minutes of back-and-forth, I had him turn around. I just couldn't resist the taste of "Chick-fil-a". HOLLA!

My birthday is next Sunday, November 19th. And when I'm into celebrating it (as the pix from the previous years demonstrate), I celebrate it all through the month - a bit before the actual day and all the way through to Christmas Eve. Last Friday, after I had just returned from the west coast, I got less than a day to have some general 'party' time before an early Saturday morning flight. But my friends Ern and Tina invited me to hang out with them in the city to begin the 'natal anniversary' festivities. Since I was getting right back on the road for another week and change, all I needed to really do was switch out my suitcase (used underwear for clean underwear) and voila! Everything else could be dry cleaned. So, I decided to forego sleep and quiet reflection to instead paint the town random with my friends in tow. We didn't really have a plan as much as we wanted to have a cocktail or two, and perhaps get our groove thing on the dancefloor (after all, "it's my birthday". Well, it will be...). Tina's friend Devon owns a car service and was scheduled to be chauffeuring David Hasselhoff around the city. Strangely, we all wanted to meet him. Admittedly, I was never a "Knight Rider" or "Baywatch" fan, but I do remember watching him play Dr. Snapper Foster on "Young & The Restless" in the '70s (You recall, I grew up on 'the stories'). But our search was for not. We were never quite able to hook up with the current "America's Got Talent" judge, but in New York City, you never know who else you might run into. Tina, Ern, and I met a couple of their friends Geva and Noem, who asked us to meet them at a club in Chelsea called "ULTRA", the new Flatiron cocktail lounge in New York City. In addition to a great mix of top 40 and house music, we sipped on nice drinks (actually just Coca Cola this time for me vs. my usual Kir Royale [champagne and light on the chambord]. I didn't want to be hungover). And though no David Hasselhoff, we ran into Hollywood actor and sometimes "bad boy" Mickey Rourke hanging out at the club. As he held court with lots of lovely model-looking ladies surrounding him, he looked my way and gave me a shout out. Before night's end (as he was exiting the club), he came over to where we all stood and gave me a high-five/handshake as if he knew me. I just played along. And inside my all-roads-lead-back-to-pop-culture-and-nostalgia mind, I considered this moment one big honor. I thought of senior year in high school. It was June 1988 and close to graduation. We called it "senior skip day", but it was more like "leave early day" as we did attend our "senior breakfast", then deciding to take the rest of the day off. After all, we were graduates at this point. The ceremony was just a formality. We decided to sneak to my best friend Natalie's home (a good 50 or so of us as her parents were at work) to watch - for the time - our American sweetheart Lisa Bonet in the racy film (or so we thought) "Angel Heart". Mickey plays a grungy detective hired by a mysterious man (Robert De Niro) to find a missing person, only to discover dead bodies and a bizarre revelation. Our "Denise Huxtable" plays a voodoo priestess in the film and enjoys a sex scene (chockful of bloody, dead, sacrificing chickens) with Mickey. Hot stuff (or so we thought). This decision along with her inclusion on the cover of the still best-selling "Rolling Stone"s HOT issue would create a wedge between she and 'righteous' Cosby that would never quite get settled (though she did spin off to launch "A Different World" and before "Cosby Show"s end, she did return for a large part of the final season). Lisa Bonet would go on to live her life under the radar, first as Lenny Kravitz's wife, soon thereafter as the mother of Zoe. And from time to time, she comes out to play "actress". Still, my sighting of Mickey Rourke, sparked my appreciation for who Lisa Bonet has been as a pop culture presence and icon to me. Meanwhile, as the night progressed, we stumbled into another fixture from our 'pop culture' conscience. It was one of American Idol reject William Hung's contemporaries. It was the sassy, African American guy (with a pierced tongue) who cussed Randy, Paula, and Simon out after they told him he wasn't going to Hollywood. I didn't ask him his name, but I recognized him immediately. He was working at "Ultra" as a server and seemed to be in good spirits. From there, Noem led us to "Millionaire's Club" and "After Hours" - two way-downtown Manhattan spots that he co-owns. We received V.I.P. treatment in the way of our respective entries to these spots (no lines or velvet rope issues here). But the not-exactly-top shelf liquor (and coke) left a bad taste in Tina and Ern's mouth (I just didn't drink the fountain's excuse for Coca-Cola). Still joyful, I sang along to the stellar DJ's selects as the late night/early morning edged on. We would have had some after-hours breakfast at Cafeteria, but my chariot awaited. My night of random sightings and memories were done and the hour was 4:00 am. So, Ern and I instead picked up some "White Castle" burgers to assuage our hunger. With Ern driving us in "Mahogany" (his dark red Range Sport), we pulled into the parking lot of my home in Ridgefield Park, New Jersey where my driver Owen was parked, waiting to take me to the Newark airport for my 6:30 am flight to Cleveland. I splashed some water on my face, grabbed my suitcase, and -- all in a New York City night -- segued to the beginning of my day. It was a festive night that made for an exhausting morning, but in the spirit of "my birthday", I let it ride joyfully (while I crashed to sleep on the plane).  

Enclosure