Morning all:

Another perfect autumn weekend is staring us in the face—is this the first or the second Fall weekend of 2004? I am feeling particularly excellent with a brimming mug of our new “Stellar Brew” organically grown, fair trade certified, coffee from the Organic Coffee Co. in front of me; even if you don’t like this distinct strong and smoky coffee the packaging is wonderful.

Yesterday, four in the afternoon, my plane did the climb-out of Newark airport. Sun came pouring into the aircraft, and on my side, throughout our westward turn, I had a great view of the Manhattan skyline, the Statue of Liberty, and in the distance the huge Verrazano Narrows bridge—some things are just too cool for words. A full week in that area included some fine eating moments, such as; Spanish in the “Ironbound” section of Newark, complete with navigating my big rental Cadillac through the narrowest of streets. Authentic and original Stromboli in Philly, and walking about ten city blocks in Hoboken looking at a choice of at least fifty sidewalk cafes and restaurants before finding the perfect little Italian place—the one that came complete with the ghost of its most famous native son, old blue eyes himself, Frank Sinatra.

Last weekend Marcia and I took advantage of a city wide “twenty days and twenty nights” event that had things going on every day and evening during this period, that happened to include our anniversary. Saturday we took the little Deux Chevaux to the university part of town where they had closed a street and had chalk painters competing for prizes. People watching became as much fun as viewing the art itself. We even managed to take a horse drawn carriage ride through the area.











On Sunday we again packed into the 2CV, this time into Northern Kentucky for our anniversary dinner. I carefully plotted a complete route that included tree lined city streets and a crossing over one of the lightly used bridges. What I did not count on was a police closing of the road forcing us onto I-75 and a crossing via one of the busiest and nastiest bridges in the nation. Not to worry, the entry ramp was at the very start of the bridge and our exit was immediately at the other end. With 40 ton trucks thundering behind me at 65+ mph I urged the little 2CV onward, and managed to creep to a blistering 40 mph by the time I reached the top of the bridge, and then was able to accelerate to a magnificent 50 mph on the downhill side—all the while we had truck air horns blaring about us. As Rodney Dangerfield would say “I got no respect”, just a whole lot of sweat on my brow. A wonderful Cajun dinner at the old time Dee Felice jazz bar and restaurant made it all worthwhile.

All is well with everyone. The Florida gang got through another hurricane and life is back to normal, Adrianne sounds as if the pace of life in Tonga is becoming a bit of a reality. This weekend she and several other volunteers are spending the weekend on a remote island. Hopefully she’ll be able to recharge her internal battery. Next weekend Marcia and I will be in the Amish part of the north eastern part of the state staying at something called Landoll’s Mohican Castle. Since I will not be back into town till Friday evening and we leave Saturday morning a post might be a couple of days late. For those of you who read this stuff—do not panic.

Have a great week everyone,

Cheers,

Dirk

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