Manhattan: and a streetwalker's tale

Before Marrakesh, before Windhoek, before Kathmandu, before Dhaka, before Dakar, before Bologna, before Washington, before Paris, before Wellesley...

there was Chappaqua. At least for me there was.

Chappaqua, a town with good roads for bike riding and excellent bake sales. A town not yet made famous by resident presidents. A town where the neighbor's bathroom bidet was the source of much intrigue and "talk" (but I digress).

Yes, Chappaqua. That's where I spent years growing up. 

But on the weekends, there were visits to my grandmother in Manhattan.  It was during walks in uptown and downtown that she taught me about everything that was important.  About things that were right side up and upside down and knowing what mattered most. 

New York

I'm back walking those streets again.  (Perhaps the very streets where my father walked Eleanor Roosevelt's dog, a task for which he was handsomely paid 25 cents.)

Exciting things are happening, and I'm sorting out the right side up from the upside down.  Sometimes, it's trickier than it seems.

 Image found here.