We Had A Blast in NYC!
There were so many moments during our trip to New York - the above photo cost me $20 as I had to pay the guys in the suit for posing with the boys, but they laughed all the way through it...so it was worth it.
From the moment when we checked into the hotel room...after a frenzied drive through New Jersey...after my beautiful wife accidentally muted my GPS...
Here was the exchange after the long drive:
Me: We have two rooms reserved under 'Fazzolari'.
Clerk: First name?
Me: Clifford.
Long wait. I'm standing with my nephew John and my son Sam looking at the clerk, who was from India, I believe.
Me: Huge sigh.
Another long wait, but finally the clerk looks up.
Clerk: So, it's under 'Clifford Clifford?'
My nephew, from less than a foot way, roared with laughter.
Me: Kathy...please talk to this woman.
And that was the way I played the trip. Nothing would aggravate me.
Not the long walks.
Not the heavy traffic.
I would shake off the fatigue.
The pasta dish I devoured was worth the entire trip. I kept thinking of my brother, Jeff...with Johnny there, with my brothers John and Jim along, and I was blessed with perfect sauce. We all battled the foot traffic. We rode the subway and the grimy buses...to get where we needed to go.
But much of the trip was also about Mom saying goodbye to Derek Jeter. She just wanted to see him play one time in New York before he retired. And Mom with two new hips...just kept up, walking through the city streets...all for a few hugs.
We really had a blast.
(More to come).
Thanks to John and Dana and Jim and Corinne and Lynn for making it all happen.
And it was so much fun hanging with my family.
A lot of money was spent. My legs were swollen to epic proportions.
No rest.
But we laughed a lot.
Living.
"So," Sam said. "Did you enjoy the trip, Mr. Clifford Michael Clifford?"
(Sam thinks everyone's middle name is 'Michael' for some reason)
(I guess I'll be forever known as Clifford Michael Clifford after this).
And I'll spend a lot of time thinking about the roaring laughter.
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