Have you been? I had the great good fortune to have to take a bunch of people there just this week.

  Well, not really dangerous in the technical sense of the word.

I was in a bakery last week when a sign on the display caught my eye. The sign read  “Swiss Rolls.” Looking at that sign immediately brought me back to my parents’ house and into their kitchen.

Friday night was a special night for Gotham.  It was the 21st Annual Theresa Awards Dinner.  The Theresa Alessandra Russo Foundation is a not for profit that honors the memory of Theresa Alessandra Russo by touching the lives of children with special needs and their families.  Theresa, who would have been 29 years old on Friday, was born with a rare illness that took her when she was just five years old.  Her parents Vincent and Susan started the Foundation in her memory.  

A somewhat meaningful number these days. While Fred was being honored last night, A-Rod smacked his 660th homer last night at Fenway park tying Willie Mays for fourth on the all time list. His laser shot snapped a 2-2 tie and proved to be the winning run. Now the controversy will smolder as the Yankee organization refuses to pay him a $6 million dollar bonus (which is in his contract) for reaching that milestone.  

Tonight I will be honored by the Russo family Theresa Foundation. In the run-up to the event I've  spent a lot of time thinking about what I'm going to say and am mindful of my son Alex's comments that my blogs and other utterances should have a serious impact and not be frivolous.

We've all been subjected to it. That stamp on the back of your hand that guarantees re-admission to an event. Once stamped, have you ever had the lingering question of what if the stamp fades? We were in Washington visiting Mea and went to a craft show. Paid our admission, entered and stamped.

She was walking to work and fell in a pothole. Corey, who do we go after for this? So now we're in the ER, waiting for X-ray results or maybe some pain meds. At least we're not in Nepal. Or Baltimore. Acts of injustice done between the setting and the rising sun in history lie like bones, each one. -W H Auden