Summer Makes One Last Cameo...

...and boy! is it lovely outdoors today. (A query: is saying boy! still PC? How about saying man! - is that still allowed? Language and usage are so malleable these days; one politician stirred up a shitstorm because he used the fine old Middle English word "niggardly" - can you believe he actually was forced to apologize?! I think even Chaucer has a character who was "niggard of his purse" - good thing he's not around to face the wrath of the linguistic yahoos who know nothing about the English language.)

I have no pics (yet) to show you of this gorgeous day, though I did shoot off a few at this morning's observance of Veterans' Day - they will be posted in due course. Meanwhile, here are some others for you to gawk at (remember to click on them for the wide-screen version):

This is some of the autumn foliage outside the Cos Cob Library. At the moment, your scribe is inside the same, though not for long.


This is the promised picture of the Walruses in conclave assembled. Usually there are more of us, but one (your scribe) was behind the camera, and another was still en route. My friend the Reader's Digest editor (in red) appears to be about to double over laughing at some witticism of our fearless (but God-fearing) leader, Bill Evertsberg. What's the joke, John?

Finally, an apt shot of Pickwick Plaza, taken yesterday, that shows the site of the former Pickwick Arms Hotel. That Greenwich landmark was torn down after the town refused the owners permission to add a few more rooms to help keep their cash flow positive. The office complex that replaced it has just been sold for the second time in the past four years - at double the price it went for last time. If the hotel owners had just held on, they would now be rich beyond the dreams of avarice, and the town would still have some of its erstwhile charm.

Note the trio of women gossiping just to the left of the wall. They are close to the spot where Permelia Reed used to hold court in the garden of the hotel each Wednesday when she wasn't in Hobe Sound, and many were the aspiring social climbers who never got off the ground because of Permelia and her black sweaters. Today, of course, anything goes, and the more gauche you are, the more likely you will be to make a big splash here in Greenwich. Like the Pickwick Arms, the days of good manners and gentility in this town are pretty much gone forever....