Daily Blague

This afternoon, I went for a walk. I can't remember the last time I did that - just went out for a walk, with no particular destination in mind. My only idea was to walk a mile. Of course, I would take pictures, and because I've taken so many pictures in Carl Schurz Park, I thought I'd head west instead. It wasn't until I reached Madison Avenue that my plan developed. I would walk up Fifth Avenue, on the Park side (with its nearly uninterrupted sidewalk), up to 96th Street, where Kathleen grew up, and then I would head back.

It was a nice enough day. Far from glorious; the sun seemed somewhat overcast and pale, and the temperature was too high for a wool jacket but to low to go without. (I need a new windbreaker.) But if Fifth Avenue was quiet (except for buses full of tourists), the rest of my walk was fairly well populated. Yorkville High Street - the stretch of 86th between First and Lexington Avenues - was jammed.

I took a lot of pictures, and, miraculously, all but two of them were clear; I need a camera that's operated by voice, not push. But I'm only going to show two this afternoon, both souvenirs of Kathleen's Carnegie Hill childhood (only, of course, the realtors hadn't dreamed up "Carnegie Hill" in those days). The photo above shows two Fifth Avenue mansions. The one to the right was built by Andrew Carnegie, and currently houses the Cooper-Hewitt branch of the Smithsonian Institution, a museum of design. The cream-colored pile to the left was built by Otto Kahn, a prominent financier, and it currently houses the Convent of the Sacred Heart, one of several in the Metropolitan Area and accordingly known as "91st Street." Oh, the tales of mischief that Kathleen harvested from her years there. Always in trouble! Squirting the late Ms Onassis with water pistols, for example. (Caroline was a few years behind Kathleen.) It was an accident, honest! Other misdeeds were not so accidental, and if you have not heard Kathleen tell of the ingenious method that she devised for mopping the convent's corridors (a punishment), you have missed a very good laugh. Couventiennes will want to know that Kathleen's little Advent lamb was always très, très loin from the Baby Jesus. Finally, the Mesdames had a brainwave: they rigged an election so that Kathleen became Student Body President. This maneuver shamed her into the good behavior for which she has since become celebrated on three continents and Puerto Rico.

Then we have 17 East 96th Street. I'll bet that this picture will surprise Kathleen when she sees it, because I don't think she knows about the new building at the corner of Madison Avenue. The corner site was occupied by a one-storey Rexall Drug Store for decades. I can't look at the sidewalk without recalling Kathleen's complaints, still quite lively, about an obnoxious poodle-type dog whom the Moriartys babysat for a week. The little beast's name was truly over the top: "Dragée."