Urban poetry

I got out of the office early, and fortunately the people pens for the big ball drop in Times Square were not all in place yet, and I was able to get home without having to cajole my way across the barricades. The NYPD is not in a terribly cajole-able mood these days, and you just never know.

Sometimes they have let me cross as soon as I say I'm just going home, sometimes they've made me show my driver's license to prove that my home is indeed on the far side of Times Square, and sometimes I've had to walk all the way up to Central Park and then back down again because there was no crossing Broadway, period, end of story.

This is one New York ritual I've never been the least bit tempted to join. I'd rather be warm and have access to a bathroom, and anyway, from my apartment I can actually hear the roar of the crowd at midnight. Or that is, I could hear it, if I were awake, which I won't be.

Happy New Year and pleasant dreams of a bright 2015 to you all.