Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

So many stairs, so little time. In case you didn't read this earlier blog post , my father is obsessed with his "flights of stairs climbed" goal on this Garmin watch. Further, as mentioned yesterday , we were in the city with him and mom. When Tom and I got up on Saturday morning, my parents, both of them, were sitting innocently on the sofa in our apartment looking like they'd been there for awhile. Turns out, not so much. Pop had rather recently returned. As we took the elevator downstairs to go out for breakfast, Pop admitted that he'd been out earlier. He had taken the elevator down to the first floor and then went into the garbage room where, the day before, he had spied the door to the stairwell. He had noticed this door when he'd trailed Tom into the garbage room while Tom recycled a box. He's a crafty one, my Pop. Anyway, apparently the stairwell door in the garbage room was locked. So Pop went back out and got back into the elevator. He took it up

 In hindsight, it may have been an overly aggressive agenda. At the crack of 10:30 AM, we headed out to see the new Banksy exhibit. This pop-up is conveniently located (for us) on West 14th in the former Urban Outfitters that closed up last year sometime. I didn't even realize it closed until we were inside and the place was obviously no longer a retail establishment. Pop decided he's a fan of Banksy. Mom said she always liked his work. She is curious which art school he went to, because it's clear he went. It is easy to see his technical skills are excellent. Thug for Life print at the Banksy Exhibit Who can get enough of these rats? After Banksy, we had a quick lunch at the bowl place and then headed up to the Met to see the Lexicon of Fashion exhibit. This required walking across the park because who wants to switch at 53rd? So much easier to just take the C to 81st and walk over there. I already saw the Lexicon of Fashion once before, in member previews with Renya. I wo

We walked the whole way down to Fat Choy for brunch with Wanda and Derek. My favorite part was the jag through Washington Square Park. It's a scene of epic proportions in there.  Wait, back up a sec. I should probably *not* call it a "scene" because then everybody would know that Washington Square Park is not my natural habitat. It would be better to use a word like "tableau." Or a "pastiche." I should also start throwing out words like ‘bouji AF’ and ‘thirsty’ in casual conversation.  Touché, all you out there sitting crosslegged in the grass wearing your autumn-themed flirtypants and arguing about Chaucer and the metaphysical puppetry. I can speak your language.  So much gorgeous in Washington Square Park.  My favorite of all those we passed in the park was the guy lounging on a bench tapping his phone in a way that made it clear he was eJournaling and not social-media-ing. He had on a gorgeous outfit which the park framed to perfection. It was almos