The New Yorker magazine story brings back some memories. No, not memories of other tasteless cover art, but I do remember all of the times I visited my Auntie Jay’s house and I would immediately head for her stack of New Yorker magazines. So while the grownups chattered, I was in a different world altogether. A fascinating world. And during the years since then, I’ve always looked forward to finding a copy in my dentist’s waiting room. I bought the magazine a few times while traveling, but as I grew older, I found the magazine to be more about
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
New York New York
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