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I am endlessly defending the validity and realism of Sex and the City* in this column, and so this week I thought I’d change things up and try to expose one of its flaws. I didn’t have to think about it for too long. There is one seemingly horrible misrepresentation, one fraudulent, grotesque, Hollywood aspect of the… Read more »

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Genial TV-host Ronald Reagan became president in 1980, it was “morning again in America,” and the customer relationship took off at full blast. For many younger people, this particular relationship was like a breath of fresh air. It’s not like it had never been there before, but during the feel-good ’60s and the get-your-rock-‘n-rolls-off ’70s… Read more »

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You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself Any direction you choose. Oh, the Places You’ll Go! ~ Dr. Seuss After a two-week hiatus, I’m back! It was a much-needed break. My husband Ross and I were on a seriously exhausting apartment hunt. Finding an apartment in New… Read more »

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I’m excited to announce that next Friday, April 13th, The Del-Satins are performing at St. Stephen of Hungary on 82nd Street. Original members Stan Zizka, Les Cauchi, and Tommy Ferrara and featured member Edie Van Buren will perform all their hits. Sadly, Fred Ferrara, one of the original Del-Satins, passed away last year but will be there… Read more »

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AANY: Who are you? Zainah: I’m a New Yorker. I’m the city streets, the smoke, the smog, the grit, the grime. I’m a New Yorker. I have so many different levels of myself. I compare myself to maybe an onion. You know just a lot of layers, a lot of different things, and a lot… Read more »

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Thomas Pryor’s work has appeared in The New York Times, Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood, A Prairie Home Companion, New York Press, Underground Voices Magazine, Opium Magazine Online, Our Town, The West Side Spirit and Ducts. Thomas curates a monthly storytelling show at Cornelia Street Café on the second Tuesday of the month. His story, “Madame Butterfly… Read more »

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On my 12th birthday in March 1966, Dad gave me a basketball. This was an odd present for two reasons: (1) Dad gifts to me reflected his interests and he hated basketball. (2) I was terrible at basketball. Right after Christmas 1965, I made up my mind I was going to change that. I would learn to… Read more »