{"id":26,"date":"2005-06-27T01:01:00","date_gmt":"2005-06-27T08:01:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/rifftides\/wp\/?p=26"},"modified":"2005-06-27T01:01:00","modified_gmt":"2005-06-27T08:01:00","slug":"i_like_new_york_in_june","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/rifftides\/2005\/06\/i_like_new_york_in_june\/","title":{"rendered":"I Like New York In June"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>You may knock New York if you like. I won&#8217;t. I lived there in the seventies, when it was truly knockable. Let me tell you three things about the couple of days I spent in Manhattan last week.<br \/>\n1. On the glorious day that was last Thursday, I sat blogging on my laptop in City Hall Park, a free wireless internet zone, a sure sign of a civilized city. I was surrounded by people eating their lunches in the sun, tours of grade school children gleefully and loudly exulting at the sight of baby squirrels, a man who looked to be about one hundred and five writing avidly in longhand, a city employee on the smallest riding lawnmower I&#8217;ve ever seen waving at the kids on each circuit of a patch of lawn as if he were Rex on a Mardi Gras parade float.<br \/>\n2. I saw planter after planter in midtown spilling over with spring flowers&#8230;wave petunias, coleus, begonias, comras and others I couldn&#8217;t name. Just down the hill from Carnegie Hall&#8217;s 56th Street side, the Metropolitan Tower has four magnificent raised beds of impatiens. In the elevator lobby, I congratulated the security guards on the flowers, and they beamed.<br \/>\n3. I sat down opposite Cole Porter&#8217;s piano at the Waldorf while <a href=\"http:\/\/www.darylsherman.com\/\"target=\"_blank\">Daryl Sherman <\/a>was playing it and singing &#8220;I Like New York in June.&#8221; When she saw me, she altered the lyrics to, &#8220;I like Paul Desmond&#8217;s looks, er, licks, they give me a thrill.&#8221;<br \/>\nNo, I won&#8217;t knock New York.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>You may knock New York if you like. I won&#8217;t. I lived there in the seventies, when it was truly knockable. Let me tell you three things about the couple of days I spent in Manhattan last week. 1. On the glorious day that was last Thursday, I sat blogging on my laptop in City [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-26","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-main","7":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/rifftides\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/rifftides\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/rifftides\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/rifftides\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/rifftides\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=26"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/rifftides\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/rifftides\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=26"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/rifftides\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=26"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/rifftides\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=26"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}