 |
 |
 |
 |
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. |
|
 |
 |
 |