Whenever I read the moniker I’ve placed on this blog, my fancy takes me to Monty Python. These fellas had a department of funny walks and a routine called “walk this way.” The “way” in question might have been reminiscent of the dance that referenced an Egyptian as I recall. Or of a Groucho slither.

Speaking of Monty Python, years ago John Cleese was spotted in the lobby of the Loews Regency headed for the hotel gym. Hubby and I mentioned we loved Fawlty Towers so much we got the series on CD. He was a friendly guy: “so you’re the ones,” says he. I had intended to ask if the Regency desk met the standards of a Basil Fawlty but was too non-plussed to say anything.

Unrelated rambling but in that same lobby we also encountered Ben Vereen. He was in a cabaret show and requested we go. Sorry to have had other plans cause I know from seeing him on numerous stages to expect a superlative performance.

So looks like we had two near misses in the same hotel foyer. Alas.

The 59th Street Bridge

When I was young and we lived over the bridge in Queens, the fragrance from the Sunshine Bakery often greeted us on the trip home.

The Bakery was long ago turned into a television studio, the one at which Sex and the City originated, among others.

On the Manhattan side of the bridge, there have been many changes since the days past when Dangerfield’s closed. Since the pandemic Bed Bath also closed as did the Food Emporium. Actually the latter was empty for a long time until Trader Joe’s took over.

Ambles

Where would you like to go? Each day, I take routes both routine and completely unfamiliar. Either one can surprise, even astonish. It’s all in the details.

Maybe you can tell me where I’ve been!

From whence we came

You are invited to come for some very long walks with me. Our tours of New York City might take some very usual and familiar turns. They might lead to odd little corners as well. It’s a work in progress. As it should be.

This site shares interests and subject with its predecessor.

We are picking up from an older blog.spot, our SidewalkSuperBlog.

Are these ethereal mountains
Above my horizon ripe for 
Conquest? Can I top that high
Transparent peak in my boot.
It's an illusion that I can tread
This ghost mountain to plant
My flag. The cloudy vaporous
Hills will vanish into the air
And moisture that made them.
They will ascend into the water
And vapor from whence they came.
No march to the summit for me.
Scaling these smokey heights
Eludes my foothold, my foot
Hits a slippery slope and leaves
No print. My sole fails to come
Into contact with this aery 
Terrain. The connection can't 
Hold. No matter the invitation
To rise to the top, my sole slips 
Through theiir mists and falls
Flat. This climb is in my dreams.

Climb 2

There is a mountain just 
Above my horizon. It 
Invites me to scale it 
To its peak but defies
Any footing on its soft
Milky invisible surface. 
It might be thought of 
As a ghost mountain,
As ethereal as air. In fact
There's no foothold there.
Like a mound of feathers,
Its pillowy and soft, and
Eludes in transparency 
For a slippery trip to the
Top. There is no hugging
The slope with your sole.
The mountain I have to 
Climb is air and moisture