UF then proudly took me for a ride to see changing colors in Connecticut in his brand new smelling BMW, the cigarette smoke has not burned itself in yet.
"Seeing changing colors in Connecticut" meant driving through insane traffic for hours (police has basically blocked off all bridges from Manhattan either because of the marathon, or because they felt like it - then we drew through some deliriously rich areas of Connecticut where each mansion is tucked away in acres of forest with fabulous colors of autumn leaves (as promised by NY Times), and then, without ever getting out of the car we turned back. Return trip was marked by squabbling with the GPS lady - UF disobeyed her every order and drove us through some amazing sections of Bronx where no white man has sat foot since the island was bought by the Dutch. By the time we got back to Riverside drive they made up. It turns out that the roads are filled with morons on wheels who do not know how to drive. UF suspects them all immigrating here from Ohio. It's because of them that it is now impossible to eat in restaurants, as eeeeverything now contains fruit. Not to mention how loudly they shout, deafened by their Ipods etc.
UF says The Book is almost finished - he'll finish it as soon as he stops smoking. Currently he smokes like a smokestack.
Then we talked about this and that, and at some point he started saying not nice things about his Woman, so I went to bed. All is all, he is doing MUCH better than any time in past three years, it was more fun seeing him than in a long time.
PS Vecchio objects:
Don't be silly, I grew up in that part of the Bronx. It is what inspired Ogden Nash to write "The Bronx? No Thonx."
