The Big Puddle

Do you remember clear plastic bubble umbrellas? Weren't those cool? How about those shiny red rubber boots you put on over your shoes so you could jump in all the puddles?

I wish I had those now. I walked home in the rain today with my normal umbrella, which did succeed in preventing me from getting soaked completely beyond hope of recovery, and my tennis shoes. My sockies got all wet.

If I go to New York City next weekend, a ticket for this will be waiting for me at the box office. Should I go?

I've never been to NYC. It looks a little overwhelming. I saw Harlem through a car window when I was 13 and we were on the way from Princeton to Cape Cod. And a couple of years ago, I changed planes in Newark, and was able to make the first-hand observation that New York City is a scoche on the largish side. So how about that.

I've seen dozens of episodes of both Seinfeld and Taxi, and watched a handful of Woody Allen movies. But somehow these strike me as being, perhaps, a little inadequate to prepare me for immersion in an urban jungle of such staggering size. I'd be scared to go alone.

But I do have a cousin in Brooklyn. Adventure and excitement and really wild things! I might just go. Hopefully it won't be raining.