Yucky January days
Looking south in Union Square. 2:30 PM. Photo: JH.
Wednesday was one of those yucky not-cold, not-warm grey January days in New York, exacerbated by the snow melting into brown slush and wide deep puddles everywhere you went. Traffic was terrible too. Is that what’s bothering you, brother? I read somewhere the other day that January 24 is considered the most depressing day of the year. I must be slow since it was two days after that for me.

Karen LeFrak and DPC
However, the night before last, we went over to the Wollman Skating Rink where the Women’s Committee of the Central Park Conservancy was hosting their annual skating party for “another beautiful night of ice-skating under the stars” as a thank you to its donors and their families for their generous support of the Conservancy. The event honored the Playground Partners and Patrons and the Children’s Education Committee. The Partners, incidentally, raise money to keep Central Park’s 21 playgrounds well-maintained and fun for the kids. (You can become a member by calling Molly Roberts at 212-310-6617.)

In all the years that I’ve lived in the city, I’d never been to the Wollman Rink before. I’d thought about it and talked about it and intended to, but didn’t. It happens that as a kid I was a natural when it came to skating – both roller and ice, and loved it. So although I had a dinner party to go to Tuesday night, I decided I’d take a half hour or so to try out the Wollman, first. If you’ve been, you already know this: it’s fabulous! Skating under the stars with the skyline surrounding Central Park as the background. So beautiful, like an MGM movie.

Many decades had passed since I’d been on the ice but it took only three or four go-arounds before I got the hang of it once again. It was so wonderful that I’m determined to go back again and again.

Tuesday night’s party had lots of little ones,
very game and able, and so close to the ice because of their size, that falling (which us older guys fear) was never a problem. The rink, if you’ve never been, is huge and well-lighted, and the Djs provided great music, from rock and rapper, all designed to get you moving in the groove. It’s easily accessible from the entrance to the Park at 60th Street across from the Pierre, with just a short walk to the rink.

JH came along with the Digital although ice-skating is not his forte, so he kept his two feet on the ground and his lens on the beauty of the evening.
Michael and Eleanora Kennedy and pooch
Gillian Miniter
Cutty McGill and his daughter Bibi
L. to r.: Filling up on hot chocolate and sweets; Cynthia and Dan Lufkin and Skyler with Lauren Miller.
Wollman Rink
Cricket and Richard Burns and daughters
Virginia Pitman
Donna Simonelli and her fiance Brian Johnson with Tatiana Papanicolaou
On Tuesday night 100 people jammed into the Cartier boutique on 69th and Madison for a cocktail reception in honor of the Associates Committee of Lenox Hill Neighborhood House. A dinner for an additional 250 was held at a private club on Park Avenue following the reception. Event Chairmen were George Brokaw, Mary and Ian Snow, Andrea Donahue, Alison Aston, Walter Deane, Kristina Stewart, and Nicole Perry.
George Klenkar and Stanislas de Quercize
Clo Jacobs and Charles Cohen
Thierry Pepin, Christina Wood, and Andrea Karambelas Kaplan
Sean and Christina Smith
Mark Gilbertson and Geoffrey Bradfield
Frederick Anderson, Blair Husain, and Douglas Hannant
Blair Husain and Mary Hilliard
Andrea Donahue with Brendan and Eva Dillon
Sabrina and Carl Forsythe
The O'Haras and friends
Leslie Stevens and friends
A book by Richard Kirschenbaum and Daniel Rosenberg claims to show you how to close the deal with the guy you’re interested in. Both Mr. K and Mr. R are married, so they do come from a place of authority. So-to-speak. And they have a lot of ideas. It’s not, they claim, about outsmarting your man, but understanding him. Change, he hates. Like the rest of us. Like you, like her, like him, no one likes change. Especially change for the sake of it.

Click image to order
And marriage is change, like it or not. Some can make it easy for themselves, and others can make it ... well, forget about it.

The two men are very successful in their daily lives, and married. And obviously quite happy about it. Confronted with questions all the time on what it takes to get a guy to marry you, and live happily ever after (if you’re real lucky) these guys are intrepid in seeking answers. Mr. K is the co-chairman of kirschenbaum bond & partners. He has been married ten years and has a son and two daughters.

Mr. R is a film studio exec and producer. He got married four years ago in South Africa and lives in Manhattan with their daugther.

They had a book party the other night at Harry Winston’s with a big turn-out. Not all married people; in fact a lot of unmarried people. Getting married is not only a romantic notion, but a relieving notion because it purports to rescue us from loneliness. The question is the price – not something most of us think about until it’s on the way out – the marriage, that is. These two guys are happily married and very possibly they are coming from a place where they can shed some light on matters. Buy the book and see; you can lose, either way ...
L. to r.: Daniel Rosenberg and Richard Kirshenbaum; Jen Raines, Nancy Liebowitz, Cristina Cuomo, and Stacey Bendet.
Stanley Margolis, Barbara Bloch, Bridget Rudman, and David Rudman
Patricia Kluge and Bill Moses
L. to r.: Eric Villencyand Olivia Chantecaille; Mark Badgley and James Mischka; Lorinda Ash and Jill Brooke.
NYSD readers may remember I wrote a column a couple months ago (NYSD 11/11/04) about a dinner I went to honoring Elizabeth McCormack Aron over at the Mandarin Hotel in the Time-Warner complex. I used the occasion to recount a life-saving experience I had had with her brother, Dr. George McCormack, who at that time became my doctor. George wasn’t at his sister’s testimonial that night and I learned soon after that it was because he was ill at home, and had recently been diagnosed with lung cancer.

George passed away on Monday night, to the great loss of his family – his sister, his sons and daughters, his grandchildren, his step-daughter and step-grandchildren, his companion Mary Murray, and all the friends and patients who loved him dearly.

I’m excerpting his background from the death notice in yesterday’s Times: “Trusted physician and valued teacher, graduate of Columbia College of Physicians an Surgeons, Captain U.S. Army, Dr. McCormack retired after more than 50 years in private practice in New York City. He was an exceptional clinician and was widely recognized for his friendly and gentle approach to his patients whom he treated as equals with compassion and expertise. He was a skillful sailor, photographer, and a reader who loved to share his passion for literature with everyone he touched. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Robert A Savitt and George H. McCormack Award, c/o Development Office, College of Physicians and Surgeons of Columbia University, or the Visiting Nurse Service of New York Hospice Care.”

I think George was about eighty. He was white-haired, average height, average build, and with a gentle-voice that sometimes could lower to almost a whisper. I loved going to see him because he always put me at ease, whatever my anxieties, and I loved our conversations. I could unload with him, tell him whatever was going on in the further, even murkier regions of my mind. His compassion and understanding seemed to lift everything to the light where the heart finds relief. I was very sorry when he retired although as he was getting up there in age, his practice had begun to dwindle and it was becoming a financial free-fall for him. He had many interests in life, as the previous paragraph reveals, and he liked a good time and a good laugh. Along the way, I believe he acquired and was divorced from three wives.

For me, as I’m sure it was for all of his patients,
it was a very personal relationship and he defined it for us by expressing his affection the last time I saw him in his office. After my visit, he walked me to Mary Murray’s office (she was also his nurse/receptionist). On the way, he said to me, in his quiet, yet resolute manner, “you know Dave, I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but I’m very fond of you.” I laughed at his sensitive tact, and told him that I was very fond of him too. Actually I loved him, although I never knew him really well. He was a good man, and it was my great good fortune to have been passed into his hands in my own moment of great need. He went with the angels, I am certain, for that was his pathway in life, without doubt.

There wil be a Mass of Christian Burial at St. Ignatius Loyola at 980 Park today at 11 a.m.



January 27, 2005, Volume V, Number 16
Photographs by Jeff Hirsch/NYSD & Jimi Celeste/PMc

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© 2006 David Patrick Columbia & Jeffrey Hirsch/NewYorkSocialDiary.com