Morning is the best part of the day for me. I board my train at 6:00 a.m., meditate for a bit, read the New York Times and listen to Howard Stern. Once I get into the city I’ll either visit the gym, go to my diner and yuck it up with Miss Latino Spitfire or, if the weather is nice, I stroll over to beautiful Bryant Park, buy a cup of coffee from the java kiosk and bang out a blog entry or two on my laptop. It’s the only part of my day whereby I don’t have someone in my face asking for something. Perfect. After that, it’s all downhill.
It was another bright New York City morning, so I selected the Bryant Park option. Instead of the usual coffee-sippers, newspaper readers and early morning group Tai Chi Chuan session, I was greeted by this:
Miley Cyrus performed a free mini-concert in Bryant Park for Good Morning America. It was utter pandemonium. Psychotic parents camped out overnight on the surrounding sidewalks with their little girls! They wouldn’t have done that in “old” New York. In “old” New York, the denizens of Bryant Park would have torn the stage apart and sold it for scrap metal. How am I going to protect my daughters from this sort of pap? More importantly, I couldn’t get near my java kiosk, so Miley Cyrus owes me a cup of coffee.