HUNGRY GERALD

Flying into New York’s LaGuardia Airport on my birthday, Novenber 9, 1965. The time: 5:27 PM. Suddenly, LaGuardia went dark. In fact, lights were out all over New York. Our pilot said, alarmingly, “This looks like the work of a saboteur.” Much circling. A lot of fear. Finally, we were informed that lights were on at Newark Airport (due to the efficiency of Public Service Electric & Gas). Landed safely at 7:30. Sigh of relief. Telephoned Beautiful Sharon. Said I was safe and would try to be home as soon as possible for our big time, much planned birthday dinner. Tough battle for a cab to Manhattan. Finally, six of us piled into a cab, paid the driver 25 dollars each and were off on an eerie drive to the pitch black city. Arrived at my 79th/Riverside Drive home. Walked up 12 flights to our huge (blessedly rent controlled apartment). And, what had Beautiful Sharon prepared for the birthday boy? (All cooked, arranged, prepared by candle light..fortunately, the oven and range were powered by gas.) A smidgen of beluga caviar with still cold Polish vodka from the freezer. Lobster Americaine (poached lobster in a pungent, buttery, much reduced tomato sauce). Steak and kidney pie. Two bottles of Pommard. Chocolates and cognac for dessert (the ice cream cake had melted). One word sums it up: Wow! Later, walked my standard bred poodle, Peaches, on the rooftop. Gazed at black New York buildings (there was moonlight, however) and decided I had made a very fortunate marriage. Haven’t changed my mind in 45 years.