The wind is hitting my face as the sun is trying to challenge my heat tolerance, still I’m happy and they look happy too.
Florida kids looking toward a piece of ocean not their own, enjoying the kitsch and noise in their background.
There is true wonder in the wheel that raises us to heights unknown as we soar over this concrete jungle below where people munch on hot dogs and fries.
Remnants of my Palisades Park memories bring my childhood before me as I sit in this metal cage with my love and my lifelong friends.
Making the trek from home to this city where summer is not an ally, we are making the best of the firestorm that envelops us.
It’s a great day, the sequel to the original one that brought us here in the first place.
We came here looking for the opportunity to rejoice at the Jellicle Ball as one of my friend’s kittens danced his way (again) into our hearts.
We have not been disappointed.
The magic seen on a Broadway stage has affixed itself onto our routine and has blessed this journey with childlike fun.
Misto has conjured up a batch of magic for us that started on a Thursday morn and follows us through today, as I sit in a solitary hotel lobby sipping my coffee.
Last night a fiddler reminded me that tradition is as important as routine.
Saturday morning in New York and the day’s hustle and bustle await – this is a tradition and routine I can definitely embrace.
I’m making history again with people who hold so many of my legacy remembrances and it is a good thing.
It is a great thing.
It is a magical thing (thanks again Misto).
May these memories, one day, in some distant tomorrow…