Speak of the Devil! Mere days after I mention that it's been months since I've seen Hedda Gobbler, the Morningside Park turkey, we cross paths on the stairs. She was at the top of a flight of stairs, pecking her way toward the goat path. I was a bit startled by how close I came to her. She either didn't notice me or chose to ignore me.
Encountering Hedda was a welcome antidote to Friday night's incident. Maybe incident is too strong a word, but here's what happened. I've been looking all over town for a particular book to give as a Christmas present. I read one good review but I need to see the book to a) see if I like it, and b) make sure it is age-appropriate. Friday night finds me at the Union Square Barnes and Noble. I can't find the book, so I'm browsing at the toys in the children's section. A father briskly walks by me with his five-year old son following about 10-12 feet behind. The kid hauls off and punches me in the leg just above the knee, laughs, and keeps walking. Nice.