I fell in love with New York a couple melancholy nights ago.
It doesn’t help that I watched Manhattan, talked to that one San Diego-bred New Yorker, and now am reminiscing on George Gershwin. It doesn’t help that I am in love with all things Woody Allen (even his incestuous marriage fascinates me), with “Seinfeld,” and am planning to journey there in the summer. … What if I never go there once in my life?