After 11 weeks of summertime postponements and "maybe next weeks," my brother and I finally convened for dinner this evening. I took him to the Yale Club so he'd be impressed; fortunately, he was. My meals there haven't always been so impressive, but tonight's was decent. Overpiced for what it was, but still fine.
Last night was my first in my temporary Upper West Side digs and I just love it. It's a fantastic apartment, and the neighborhood is cozy but vibrant. There's no limit to the dining choices. My summertime companion Brian and I dined at Pomodoro Rosso, a better-than-necessary Italian place less than a block away. I then thought he would enjoy the nearby Shalel Lounge, and I was correct.
Back to the matter at hand, it was nice to spend some QT with the b-r-o. I'm not sure the two of us have ever had dinner alone before ... except perhaps when our parents were out and we ordered pizza, but that would have been circa 1989. Anyway, family relationships are old and full of history/baggage/treasured memories, and they must change with the times. Someday he may even speak to me as if I'm my age. I think we're almost there.
Is that Rick?
ReplyDelete