This is the city where I was born – in mid-century, in mid-summer, in midtown Manhattan – and lived for only the first six weeks of my life. Coming in from Philadelphia on the Chinese Mafia bus, suddenly as we charged down the New Jersey Turnpike, there was that glorious skyline in the distance – tragically minus two distinctive rectangles, of course. The Empire State instead is restored to its former eminence. I felt like I was coming home – a home I am happy to visit and happy to leave behind, after a week at most.
Summer continues, bewildered but happy Torontonians out in tank tops, shorts, flipflops. On October 1 Lynn and I swam in