Roaming the NYC streets, riding subways and buses, whatever I do in the course of any given day, I find that just paying attention to people’s
interactions turns the ordinary into the extraordinary. I love documenting these happenings, and it’s been gratifying to see a few of my
anecdotes published in the NY Times Metro Diary:

Eggs on the M86

Dear Diary:

I was on an M86 bus heading west toward Central Park. As usual, the riders were insulating themselves against the world around them in
one way or another. At Third Avenue, there was a noise.

“Look, Daddy!” a child said to her father, pointing down.

An egg carton had fallen out of a woman’s bag, off her lap and onto the floor. The eggs were rolling around every which way, up and down
the aisle and underneath the seats. Yet none of them broke, and the woman seemed strangely unperturbed. Looking around, she realized
what we were all thinking.

“They’re all hard-boiled!” she said.

Then, like a S.W.A.T team, the people on the bus sprang into action. A man who had been dreamily stroking his beard dived for a couple of the
eggs as they glided by. “Call you back!” a young woman said into her phone, putting it into her pocket and scooping up an egg as it rolled over
her toe. A poodle yipped at a wayward egg meandering toward its owner, who captured it between her high heels and retrieved it daintily
between two fingers.

Within a few blocks, the bus was transformed into a rolling hub of community action. And before the driver could say “Madison Avenue,” all dozen
eggs had been accounted for and returned to their owner, with much laughter and good will.

New Yorkers. Soft-boiled.

September 17th, 2018

~~~

Spoonful a Day

Dear Diary—

I was standing at the takeout counter at Le Pain Quotidien waiting for a coffee when I had a slight coughing fit. It wasn’t a big deal, just the remnants
of a cold.

“You should take care of that,” a voice behind me said.

I turned and saw a tall, bearded fellow.

“Just getting over a cold,” I said.

He was having none of it.

“Apple cider vinegar, a spoonful a day,” he said. “Fuego is the best but it’s hard to find. I had to go out of state. Bragg is O.K. Just get some Bragg. A
spoonful a day.”

I brought my coffee to one of the long wooden tables, took out my laptop and got to work. A few minutes later I heard a familiar voice:

“Remember, apple cider vinegar.”

There he was, en route to the men’s room, wagging a finger.

“Health is wealth,” he added, slipping out of sight.

I minimized the Word doc on my screen and Googled Fuego apple cider vinegar. Took awhile to find it, and only one store had it.
Whoa Nellie — expensive. I decided to go with Bragg.

A while later, I left the cafe and saw the fellow standing at the corner talking to an older couple. Coming closer, I could hear him.

“Fuego,” he was saying. “F-U-E-G-O. But Bragg is O.K. Remember, health is wealth.”

November 12, 2018

~~~

Admiring Looks

Dear Diary:

I was on a downtown No. 6 train. There was a woman standing across from where I was sitting who was holding onto the pole
with one hand and holding her cellphone in the other. Her shoulder bag caught my eye. Mine had been falling apart for a long
time, and hers was the one I had dreamed about but never found: the perfect size and shape, with pockets in the right places.

I couldn’t tell the brand from where I was sitting. I would have to ask her. But her demeanor seemed to say, “Stay away!” When
she wasn’t scowling at her cellphone, she was staring into space, preoccupied. If I didn’t grab the moment, she would get off and
I would regret not having asked. I stood up and approached her.

“Excuse me,” I said.

She glanced up toward me, expressionless, and removed her earbuds.

I took a deep breath.

“I really like your bag and am wondering where you got it.” My knees were shaking slightly.

“Seriously?” she said. “I’ve been admiring your pants and wondering where you got them, but wasn’t sure if I should ask you!”

May 20, 2019