I went to a play last night and this old buck in front of me had his glasses on wrong. The temple was OVER his ear instead of tucked behind it.

How could he be so unaware of this? Wouldn’t it hurt or be uncomfortable? Finally, midway through the performance, he touched the side of his head and fixed it. It seems the older we get, the more easily we’re distracted. I’ll bet his underwear was on backwards, as well.

It must have been crazy geriatric discount night because the 80+ year old crow sitting next to me was LOUDLY sucking hard candies throughout the entire play. I could barely concentrate on the performances because it sounded like the person next to me was eating a big pork chop with her mouth open.

And then, of course, her cell phone went off at the exact wrong moment. It was set to extra-loud to compensate for her deteriorating hearing. But that sort of thing isn’t just the geriatrics. A cell phone goes off at every single performance I attend.

I hope when I get old I don’t annoy people in public. Although, my dream was to stay in my New York apartment until I became the crazy old guy with the big apartment who everyone wishes would croak so they could get their hands on my real estate.

I saw the recently opened and well received Everyday Rapture. What really impressed me was that she was the co-author of the piece. It’s not enough that she has a successful stage career, can sing and act. No. She has to be a writer too. People like that make me feel I’m not trying hard enough.

The play stars Sherie Rene Scott as Sherie Rene Scott—a somewhat fictionalized version of herself. The arc of the plot takes her from her humble beginnings as a Mennonite raised in Kansas to the filthy streets of Broadway.

It’s basically a one-woman show except for the musical interludes when she is joined by her two back-up singers, the Mennonettes. (Yes, she wrote the songs, too. Grrrr.) She is torn between two loves; Jesus Christ and Judy Garland. She pokes fun at religion without ever disrespecting it. Come to think of it, she gives theater the same treatment. It made me laugh.

Last night, a Nissan Pathfinder loaded with propane tanks, gasoline, fireworks (?!) and a detonator was parked on 45th Street and Broadway—right in the heart of Times Square. The detonator went off but it failed to ignite an explosion. It was discovered around 6:30 p.m. I’ve been through that area at that hour and it is choked with beautiful, happy tourists. Those wonderful people who come to New York and help to feed, and feed off of, its greatness.

A quick-thinking T-shirt vendor, who is now a local hero, saw smoke coming from the back of the car and alerted a mounted police officer. The officer smelled gunpowder and Times Square was evacuated.

Then, these tough motherfuckers from the bomb squad moved in and did their thing. Who ARE these guys?!

Brendan McDermid/Reuters

The very good Mayor Bloomberg held a press conference at 2:30 a.m. Apparently, he was at an event because he typically doesn’t dress like this when talking to the media.

Hiroko Masuike for The New York Times

I’m exhausted with sadness. I don’t want to live through another 9/11. Mrs. Wife and I had an apartment just a mile and a half from the World Trade Center and I’ve experienced all the terrorist activity I care to for one lifetime. And PLEASE spare me any lectures this morning about how other parts of the world suffer this fate on a daily basis. I’m not a blind idiot. I feel for them.

But New York is my home, so this cuts deep and it’s personal. I love this city so much and I don’t want it all fucked up. Again. It’s like watching someone try to hurt somebody you love.