I want to write about walking with my mother through lower Manhattan, from the Irish Potato Famine memorial (wonderful, wonderful, but will somebody proofread the quotations so I NEVER have to see the word "Ghandi" aghain?), past the almost-open Winter Garden, past Frank O'Hara and Walt Whitman's New York-drunk words, past a block below Ground Zero, to the gleefully bland South Street Seaport, and mostly, about how people can't resist talking to my Mom, but later, later, alligator.
posted by Martha @ 11:10 AM
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