Long before...

Long before anyone thought of saying the word sex on television, and let alone that there would be a hit show with sex in the title, the West Village -- where most of "Sex and the City" takes place -- was an Italian neighborhood. It was a neighborhood of families and bakeries and butchers, anchored by the Church of Our Lady of Pompeii. I was fortunate enough to be introduced to this world by my dear friends, Lydia and Dina, now both of blessed memory. They had grown up in the neighborhood and Dina remained here for all of her life, raising Debbie and Kevin here. I had the good fortune to work with Lydia and to get to know her family and be introduced to a world I never would have had the fortune to get to know.


The Church is still on the corner and the little park on Sixth Avenue is named for Father Demo, the long term pastor.

The neighborhood, like so many Manhattan neighborhoods is less ethnic, and now more "Sex and the City." It's got nice shops and cute sidewalk restaurants. It is also blessed with little parks on a number of blocks. The one below, named for Winston Churchill, is one of my favorites.


In a lucky fluke, as part of my job I needed to go to a photo shoot in the neighborhood. The shoot took no more than ten minutes and I got to meander slowly back to the subway, enjoying the good luck that put me in the West Village, one of my favorite areas in NYC, in the middle of a perfect summer afternoon. I only had to walk one block out of my way to be at my favorite gelato store, Grom. And so I found myself this afternoon sitting in my favorite gelato store, eating a cup of my favorite flavor of gelato, (tiramisu, if you're wondering) and listening to one of my favorite songs, "Landslide" sung by Stevie Nicks.

If I am in a turnipy mood in the days or weeks to come, feel free to remind me that there are moments of grace past and future and every day is a gift.