Astoria, Queens -- First Hand

While Mary Clare ran through Astoria Park, I roamed the walking paths and witnessed the local color. Scenario: Two middle-aged men clothed in thread-bare grey undershirts and work jeans, were perched inches apart on a bench, wildly gesticulating while engrossed in a heated discussion -- spoken in an unidentifiable Russian dialect. The boom box was across the sidewalk from them -- precariously balanced on a few rocks -- blaring Radio Free Europe. Multiply this scene with all it's permutations and you've got the complete snapshot.













At the Brooklyn Bagel Shop, the bagels are the size of a small melon. My little monkey had no problem polishing one off.













The Greek Orthodox Cathedral is a half a block from MC's apartment -- Saturday morning we clandestinely slid in and lit a candle for The Dream Weaver's success on the LSAT. Do not be confused. The altar is BEHIND the Icon door. As is the priest. Oh, and if you are a woman, you must wear a skirt and cover your head. And if you don't have a skirt, they have one for you. Vatican II did not include the Orthodox Sects -- I could have sworn we were a half a world away.