From Backroads to Broadway

Our Texas Rangers road trip group — or “Loonies,” as Donna, Steve, Debbie, Karen, Merk, Kira, Ron, and I call ourselves — selects our annual baseball destination well in advance so that we have plenty of time to plan “we must do” or “we want to do” activities — as well as figure out what we want to do individually. This year was New York to see the Rangers take on the Mets, with both teams chasing a playoff berth.

Our travels are based on a great approach — we do a few things together and find things to do on our own. As Karen has said more than once: “We’re not 5-year-olds on a soccer team; we don’t have to do everything together.” Sometimes we travel together; in other cases, our travels are staggered. And we stay in the same hotel or close to each other to simplify gathering for and traveling to our group events. This year’s lodgings were well-planned: Ron and I, Steve and Donna, and Merk and Kira stayed in 3 different hotels on the same block of West 28^th Street in Chelsea, while Debbie and Karen were in the same block on West 26^th Street, just 5 minutes away.

This trip presented some unique challenges — for example, New York’s hustle and flow. The city can be overwhelming, even if you’re a frequent visitor like Ron and I, so we had to plan thoughtfully, especially when it came to determining travel time and deciding if we wanted to take a taxi, an Uber, the subway, or our feet. Note: we used all four modes of transportation, sometimes in combination, depending on the destination and the condition of our old feet and legs!

This year we added a new person to the mix: Richard, my UNT Sigma Nu fraternity brother and good friend who lives in Corpus Christi. He and I were chatting on FaceTime earlier in the year on speakerphone when Ron had one of his flashes of brilliance and thoughtfulness: “Hey Richard — you wanna go to New York in September with our baseball group?” Richard, whose only visit to New York was flying through LaGuardia on the way to Europe, thought about it for 10 seconds, then couldn’t say “yes!” fast enough!

At this point, I have to give kudos to Ron and Donna. Ron does a fantastic job at researching and planning the trips that he and I take, and he offered that help to the Loonies — an offer that was greatly appreciated. Because this was Richard’s first trip to New York, we planned “touristy” activities as well as unique things. And bless her heart, Donna set up a group text that made communicating — how we got along without mobile phones and technology is a mystery! Donna is also skilled at looking at apps and figuring out public transportation, so to have her back up Ron in that regard was terrific!

Ron and I opted to keep Richard’s identity a secret from the others, only telling the DFW people at dinner in March that we were bringing a “mystery date” — but someone they knew and liked. As Sigma Nu Sweethearts (little sisters), Donna, Debbie, and Karen knew Richard from UNT, and Steve had met him once or twice in the last couple of years. Merk and Kira, who live in Maryland, hadn’t met him, but they are fun, kind, good-hearted people, so I knew they would mix well with Richard.

Ron and I coordinated our flight and hotel plans with Richard; he flew from Corpus to Dallas, then on to New York with us, and he stayed in our hotel. We planned to reveal his identity on our first event on Thursday morning, when we were meeting everyone except Karen outside our hotel for our trip to the Statue of Liberty (Karen wasn’t arriving until Thursday evening).

We had tickets for Thursday night’s Yankees/Tigers game; security was going to be tight and Yankee Stadium wouldn’t allow any bags — not even clear tote bags. Debbie asked Ron and me if she could leave a few things in our room and switch out before the game if necessary, and we said yes. After dropping off her things in our room, we walked to the elevator and pressed the down button; when the elevator arrived and the doors opened, there stood Richard, coming down from his room. His appearance was a total coincidence, and Debbie went “Oh my God” and went in for a big hug!

We surprised everyone — Debbie, Donna, and Karen thought we were bringing college friend Amy Lynch Brown, who had posted on Facebook that she was taking 2 trips in September and was really excited about them; the girls just knew Amy was our mystery date!

We went downstairs to meet Donna, Steve, Merk, and Kira; Donna and Steve gave Richard hugs, he was introduced to Merk and Kira, then we Ubered to the Statue of Liberty ferry at Battery Park. By this time, Karen was pleading with us via text to let her FaceTime with the “mystery date” — even telling us at one point she had makeup on — but we declined, telling her to enjoy the surprise the next morning!

We boarded the ferry to Liberty Island, where we spent about an hour appreciating the views and history, climbing up (or taking the elevator to) the pedestal, and enjoying the beautiful September weather. Then I slipped up! We wandered around the island at our own pace; without thinking I typed “Richard and I are headed to the gift shop” in the group text — so I accidentally spilled the beans to Karen. Fortunately, she thought that it might be a red herring!

After finishing at Liberty Island, we met at the dock for the quick trip to Ellis Island and the Immigration Museum. Ron and I had been before, but we were again amazed at the courage and mindset it took for people to forsake their homeland in search of a better life in America — leaving behind their language, customs, and culture, and sometimes their families (who they sent for later) and crossing the Atlantic (often in steerage) to build a new life in a totally foreign environment.

Our next stop was Red Rooster Harlem, an iconic restaurant owned by Marcus Samuelsson. Ron and I had been before and couldn’t wait to take the crew there for a later lunch/early dinner before the Yankees game, and it did not disappoint. I tend to shy away from fried chicken, but that day I had a perfectly fried chicken breast, a side of mashed potatoes that could have been shared by 2 or 3, and one of Ron’s pieces of cornbread. Heaven on a plate!

After finishing our meal, we waddled — er, wandered — to Yankee Stadium to watch them play Detroit. No one in the group is a Yankees fan, but when in New York……why not? We had great seats in the bleachers and were surrounded by a few obnoxious Yankees fans, but everyone else pretty much ignored us (we weren’t wearing team-specific gear). I have to admit that the “roll call” — where fans in the bleachers call out each Yankee by name the first time they’re in the field until that player acknowledges them — was neat. And the players acknowledged the fans after the first or second time their name was yelled because they knew the fans wouldn’t stop until they did! The Yanks took a 9-1 lead in the bottom of the 4^th inning; by that time, we were happy to call it a day.

Friday morning, we again met in front of our hotel. I wasn’t there when Karen saw that Richard was our mystery date, but she was happy to see him! For the 2^nd time in 2 days, we made our way to the Bronx; Donna and Steve headed to the New York Botanical Garden, while the rest of us headed to the Bronx Zoo, next door to the garden.

The zoo was an amazing treat! It was a cool and partly cloudy morning with low humidity, and not crowded at all. We spied all sorts of animals — lions and tigers and bears (oh my!); nocturnal creatures who mostly venture out at night (the darkness in that indoor exhibit was a little overwhelming); plus giraffes, flamingos, a snow leopard, colobus monkeys, gorillas, and elephants.

The highlight of our visit — and the last thing we did at the zoo that day — was a tram ride that took us through an open area where the zoo houses many of its larger animals and has re-created their habitats in astonishing detail. Zoos sometimes get a bad rap, and that might be true at one time; they now play a key role in protecting wildlife and instituting breeding programs so that animals are saved from extinction.

After the zoo, Richard and I peeled off and took an Uber to the Swatch store in Times Square to purchase a New York destination watch. This has become a tradition for me; I now have destination watches from Paris, Berlin, London, Edinburgh, and New York, and will add to that when I can. They’re cute, fun, and a great conversation starter!

The evening’s plans called for dinner, then a dash to the theatre district. Debbie, Karen, and Steve saw “Six,” a musical revue about the 6 wives of Henry the 8^th, while the rest of us opted for the stage version of “Chicago.” I’ve seen the movie multiple times but never the musical, so I was prepared to not be a fan because I love the movie; however, the showmanship and professionalism of the cast won me over, especially during “Cell Block Tango” and “We Both Reached for the Gun.”

Saturday morning was again cool and slightly overcast; while the others made their own way, Ron, Richard, and I traveled to the southern end of Manhattan to visit the 9/11 Museum and Memorial. After a hearty breakfast at Stage Door Delicatessen, one of New York’s iconic eateries, we found a collection of murals on our way to the museum; Ron, always interested in street art, guided us around the exhibit so that we could enjoy the creativity and talent exhibited by so many people.

We arrived at the museum before our scheduled entry time, so we wandered around the outdoor memorial area and the two infinity fountains built at the base of each tower. I’m often inquisitive about history and logistics, and that day was no different; I spoke with two park guards and learned that the names inscribed on each water feature’s wall were the names of the victims in that tower. I also learned that the names of the first responders were engraved on the memorial of Tower 2 because it collapsed first.

We entered the museum on time and made our way to the lowest level, where the exhibit really starts. Ron and I wanted Richard to walk through the major part of the exhibit, which takes you through that day in a chronological manner, describing the separate attacks on all 4 targets. That exhibit, which has been curated in great detail, is a chilling, sobering testament to the victims, as well as to the bravery, courage, and heroism that played out in large and small ways.

After the museum visit, we headed to Chelsea Market for lunch, then to Little Island — a man-made island and greenspace built on the footprint of a former pier along the Hudson River. It offers terrific views of the river and New Jersey, as well as the Statue of Liberty. We then picked up the High Line and walked almost its entire length, exiting at 28^th Street to make a  quick stop at the hotel, then on to Hudson Yards to meet the rest of the group — all wearing Rangers gear — for the trip to Citi Field in Flushing to watch the Rangers take on the Mets.

We picked up the 7 Train at Hudson Yards. Steve was leading our group and bypassed a few cars before leading us to one that was almost empty so that we could all take a seat. When we boarded, the only other riders were a couple wearing Mets jerseys, so the chattier people in our group struck up a conversation. The couple lives in Las Vegas, where they met, but were in New York for work; the wife — born in Queens — is a lifelong Mets fan and the “black sheep” in a family full of Yankee backers. They were absolutely lovely to chat with, and the ride passed quickly.

We reached the Mets train stop and debarked. I started texting Clayton, an Atos colleague and friend who lives in Queens with his husband. They are Mets fans; I had reached out a few months before to see if they would like to join us for the game, and Clayton agreed (Tim wasn’t able to join us). We found Clayton near the “Big Apple” outside the stadium; after a quick hug and a round of introductions, we headed toward the stadium.

The main entrance is spectacular; it’s a huge open-air rotunda dedicated to Jackie Robinson. Citi Field is also much more pleasant than Yankee Stadium; Clayton says the Mets try much harder than the Yanks to create a family-friendly atmosphere, while Donna noted that the sterile appearance of Yankee Stadium is a testament to what you can do with a lot of money.

We made our way to our seats and settled in. Ron insisted that he take a picture of Clayton and me, so we walked down to the railing. When I tried to persuade Ron to get a selfie of the 3 of us, he declined — but an enterprising man in a Mets jersey on the aisle 2 rows away took a photo of Ron taking a photo, then texted it to me. I parked in the aisle for a few minutes and had a lovely chat with him and his wife, who were fun and nice — indeed, everyone at Citi Field was that way.

Our group had a wonderful time. We were sitting over two rows so that we could chat with each other, and Clayton and I carried on a conversation almost the entire game. He was convinced that the Mets would find a way to wet the bed, and…..they did.

The game was a pitching duel. The Mets took a 2-0 lead to the top of the 8^th, and it looked like we would witness a Rangers loss on the road — until the Rangers scored twice in the top of the 8^th and once in the top of the 9^th to win the game 3-2. We were jubilant, Clayton was resigned — and we headed happily to the train. As he promised, not a single Mets fan gave us grief over the results!

We boarded a crowded car and stood by a couple who were decked out in Rangers’ gear. It turns out that the husband graduated from high school in Plano, moved to New York after college, and met his wife while they both worked at the New York Public Library in Bryant Park (he still works there, in digital archives; she has since taken a job with a PR firm). They were a nice young couple about to go through major changes: they purchased her childhood home in New Jersey from her parents (who retired and moved to Florida), and were expecting their first child, so we had all kinds of interesting chats before they got off the train.

Our group got off at the Bryant Park stop, mere blocks from our next destination: the Empire State Building. Ron had left the game early to return to the hotel — it had been a long day and he wasn’t feeling 100% — but the rest of us made our way down 5^th Avenue to the building entrance.

This was my 3^rd visit to the Empire State Building, and I could go every time we’re in New York. The exhibit has undergone a major transformation over the years; the main floor is a winding path that takes you through so much history about the building. Like other attractions we visit, I could read every word at every stop (which would take hours); I’ve learned to deal with that temptation by focusing on the most important parts or takeaways.

In this case, the group purchased tickets for the 86^th floor observation deck, which has a great exhibit and offers spectacular views; I’ve been to the 102^nd floor observation deck and to me it’s not worth the trip, as it’s very cozy (i.e., claustrophobic).

We spent a few minutes inside before walking out to the observation deck. I had forgotten how chilly it can get that high up! The deck offers fantastic 360-degree views of New York and the surrounding area: you can make out One World Trade Center and the Statue of Liberty (south), the dark outline of Central Park (north), New Jersey (west), and Brooklyn and Queens (east).

As we left, the express elevator took us to the ground floor gift shop, where we purchased snacks, drinks, and memorabilia before heading to our hotels. Once we exited the shop and hit the streets, Karen needed a snack; we found a busy, well-lit pizza-by-the-slice joint across 5^th Avenue and ventured forth, where Karen, Debbie, Donna, Steve, and Richard enjoyed some delicious New York pizza (Merk and Kira headed toward the hotel, while I opted to not eat — eating pizza late at night would spell disaster for me the next day).

We returned to our hotel area, and Richard and I said our goodbyes to Debbie and Karen; we wouldn’t see them the next day as they were flying out mid-afternoon and couldn’t join us for our Sunday morning adventure. We gave them big hugs and vowed to see them again soon!

Sunday morning dawned clear and calm. Donna, Steve, Merk, Kira, Richard, Ron, and I had tickets for a guided walking tour of Central Park. Ron and I always visit the Park but had never taken a guided tour; we decided it was time to learn a little history, and the others agreed. Richard decided to skip the tour; his ankle was bothering him, so he stayed at the hotel that morning and rest (the joys of getting older, huh?); we agreed that we would meet him for lunch on the Lower East Side and would let him know what time.

The park tour was fantastic; Lyall, our tour guide, discussed the park’s history and its famous neighborhood as we visited locations in the southern end of the park, including the Delacorte Theatre, the Ramble, Strawberry Fields, the skating rink (which temporarily becomes pickleball courts in warm weather), Bethesda Arch, and Bethesda Fountain (my favorite). Lyall has a full-time job in the city’s parks department and gives tours in his spare time, so he was very knowledgeable.

We texted Richard as we boarded the subway, bound for the long line at Katz’s Delicatessen on the Lower East Side. The famed deli has been in business since 1888 and is renowned for its military-like organization at the front door, huge servings, and the rapid-fire chatter of the staffers who work at the counter; we decided to skip that experience and waited for table service, which surprisingly took only about 15 minutes.

After a delicious meal, Steve, Donna, Merk, and Kira peeled off to find a sports bar to watch the Rangers/Mets game while Richard, Ron, and I trekked to the Tenement Museum, where we had scheduled an hour-long tour. The museum offers multiple tours, and the one that worked best with our schedule was how the Irish Potato Famine affected immigration from Ireland to New York and took us on one family’s journey, pieced together by reviewing multiple sources, including census and church records, and drawing some practical conclusions.

After the tour, we made our way to our next stop: a Mafia Food Tour, which took us to Little Italy and was led by Dennis, a former New York City Police Department detective. As we toured the neighborhood and had 3 delicious bites (spaghetti and meatballs, spinach-filled shells, and cannoli) at 3 different stops, Dennis — a Little Italy native who was half-Italian and half-Irish — regaled us with stories (and photos) from the area’s violent history and admitted that he might have traveled down that road had he not joined the police department.

An unexpected highlight was that we walked through the San Gennaro Festival, an annual event which featured Italian food, live entertainment, and parades. The streets were packed with vendors and customers, all competing for space on streets that were very narrow to begin with!

Our food tour complete, we headed for our final activity: an amateur burlesque show at Club Cumming, a divey bar in the East Village owned by actor Alan Cumming. A narrow and intimate space on East 6^th Street, the low-ceilinged club features a bar on the right, a banquette and tiny tables on the left, and a postage stamp-sized stage at the end.

The confines didn’t faze event hostess Tallulah Talons, a New York performance artist specializing in burlesque and cabaret, nor the 10 amateurs who performed that evening. They danced, twirled, shimmied, and stripped across the stage to the applause and delight of a packed house. It goes without saying that exposing that much of yourself (literally) to a roomful of patrons calls for a lot more neve that I’ll ever have, LOL!

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Wednesday, September 10: Let’s Roll

This adventure took a turn the way a lot of things do in our lives — with Kirk on the phone and me eavesdropping ever so nonchalantly. He was catching up with Richard, an old “Mean Green” Sigma Nu fraternity brother. As subtle as a warthog at a wedding, I interrupted their conversation. Commandeering the phone, I asked if he had ever been to New York City. When he said no, I asked if he would consider tagging along on our annual Rangers Roadtrip — this year’s destination being none other the Big Apple itself.

I half-expected him to immediately say no and the look on Kirk’s face seemed to suggest a similar expectation, but we were both equally shocked when he said, “Sure, I’d love to!” And that’s how (another) perfectly innocent conversation became the latest entry in our growing anthology titled “What Could Possibly Go Wrong?”

In the flurry of half-baked plans, thoughtfully curated maps, and color-coded itineraries that followed, we tossed out places such as Central Park, the Statue of Liberty, and Yankee Stadium. Actively selling NYC like a hustler on Canal Street, Richard laughed along to our proposed agenda, saying, “I’m up for whatever you have planned.” In hindsight, he should have been warned about my tendency to “over plan,” choosing instead to test the concept, “What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”

Thankfully, because I’m not a tyrant (and because Kirk is always there to keep me in check), we shared our unofficial disclaimer — “All itineraries will be subject to whimsy, detour, and snacks.”

Months passed in the blink of an eye.

Flights were booked, bags were packed, and in true Rangers Roadtrip fashion, we embarked on a late-afternoon flight bound for the city that never sleeps. As planning would have it, our new recruit joined us at DFW, connecting from Corpus Christi. That’s the sort of kismet that makes you think the universe has a great sense of humor!

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Thursday, September 11: Red, White, and Blue Day

The next morning, September 11, dawned bright and cool — a date that already carries its own weight and reflection. For us, however, it also began with a happy surprise.

Debbie Layne was the first to meet our mystery guest. After a brief excursion to our room to drop off some contraband, Debbie, Kirk, and I waited for the elevator. As the doors opened, I realized “It’s going down!” Watching Debbie’s face flicker from confusion to realization to pure delight as Richard stood there smiling as wide as the Texas sky was a treat! Filling the elevator with the sound of our rambunctious laughter, we were greeted by curious looks from strangers 9 floors below when we exited the elevator breathless and still smiling! It promised to be a great day!

A few steps later, we rounded a corner and found Donna, Steve, Merk, and Kira lounging in the hotel bar. Their eyes widened, hugs again flew in all directions, and the joyful reunion quickly devolved into what can only be described as the collective energy of a class of third-graders on a field trip to Disney.

With Kirk’s travel pack stuffed full of snacks (he travels like a very organized raccoon), we made our way to Battery Park for our ferry ride to the Statue of Liberty. The weather was amazing and the ever-changing view of the skyline was striking! While part of the boat ride was spent taking photos, it also gave everyone a chance to catch up.

The morning itself went surprisingly smoothly — until someone (ahem, KIRK) accidentally mentioned Richard’s name during an extended group text. Karen, who wasn’t due to arrive until that evening, immediately caught on and followed up with “Which, Rich, is which Witch?” So much for surprises; to Karen’s credit, however, she was thrilled with our plus one when she joined us the next morning!

Lady Liberty stood tall, welcoming, and serene; despite the date, there was a hopeful stillness about the grounds. Everyone had a great time soaking up the atmosphere of the small island as we roamed freely, taking photos, laughing, and remembering. No one got lost — which, for our group, qualifies as a minor miracle!

Afterward, Ellis Island greeted us with history layered upon history. I wandered through the “Journeys: New Eras of Immigration” exhibit, reflecting on the long line of people who had once stood in that very hall, dreaming about a new life. I spent an admittedly limited time inside, then found myself drawn to a comfy wooden bench by the water. Enjoying the sounds of the harbor, the sloshing of be water in the small dock where a few boats were moored, and the sounds of families enjoying themselves, I was happy we had chosen to revisit this beautiful place with our friends.

Our early-bird dinner at Red Rooster Harlem was everything I remembered: opulent, vibrant, and so alive you half expected a jazz quartet to materialize beside your table. Everyone enjoyed their food (some more than others), but we agreed it was absolutely worth the culinary side trip.

Following a winding set of directions along an unfamiliar set of train tracks, we definitely took a wrong turn somewhere! Although you would think a group of adults (with smartphones) could navigate their way to a ballpark the size of Yankee Stadium, you would have found our route peculiar on this day. Somehow I turned a simple 8-minute train ride with a 4-minute walk into a 20-minute train ride and 40-minute walk!

Somewhere along Melrose Avenue, as my internal alarm bells started clanging with the kind of dread usually reserved for horror movie characters walking into an abandoned building on the side of the road at night to ask for directions, I quietly admitted to Steve what I had gotten us into. Ever the calm voice of reason, he smiled at me and assured me that we would be fine.

In unison, everyone pulled out their phones and checked our directions. While each of us consulted a different app, and every app responded like a magic 8-ball that had been dropped too many times, a kind local pointed west and said, “You can’t miss it” (Spoiler: We almost did!).

Breathlessly triumphant, we made it to the stadium. Entering the stadium was different; with President Trump attending the game, security had been enhanced, thus adding an interesting twist that we hadn’t expected. While there were questions, concerns, and mild curiosity as to how his attendance would affect the experience, I was glad to have witnessed the events all the same.

Sitting among the bleacher-seated faithful as they cajoled their favorite players for recognition was a fun experience. Young and old, the raucous fans almost toppled over the outfield wall seeking each player’s attention and created some cringeworthy moments even as stadium security attempted to contain them!

Aaron Judge hit a solo home run in the first inning, the stadium erupted, and somewhere amid the chaos I found myself thinking, This is exactly what a Yankee baseball game is supposed to feel like.

We left well before the final out (New York won 9-3), but not before I scored big in the team store: a cap, some socks, and a pair of pinstriped pajama pants so stylish even Donna had to admit they were “nice.” Coming from Donna, that’s like receiving a “10” from the Russian judge on a balance beam routine!

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Friday, September 12: Big Apple Basics

The next morning we set out for the Bronx Zoo. To our collective surprise, the subway ride was easy, scenic, and utterly peaceful — a rare New York trifecta. The zoo itself was magnificent! Within minutes, the city melted away into a world of verdant forests, swooshing waterfalls, and the occasional peacock who clearly thought he owned the place.

By afternoon, we splintered into subgroups for our own little adventures. Kirk and Richard went Swatch shopping in Times Square, Debbie and Karen befriended a stranger with questionable GPS credentials and an accent so thick even Google Translate gave up and replied with “????????” every time they tried to communicate with the gentleman.

That left, Merk, Kira, and I on our own misguided subway ride back to our hotels. Along the ride, Merk and Kira made friends with a fragrant young subway philosopher who happily attempted to charm them into a tip for his sage, oregano, and otherwise patchouli-scented advice. Interrupting his dissertation, I politely plucked the two of them from the train when I realized we were about to enter Brooklyn which was by NO MEANS the direction we intended to be going. Yikes!

While things took several turns, everyone reconvened for dinner at Aperibar before our evening on Broadway began! Admittedly I was still tender from the day’s chaos….the kind of mood even the best beet gnocchi can’t fix. Thankfully everyone understood as I slipped from the table, going for a quiet walk as the city lights began to flicker. Realizing the restaurant was near Bryant Park, I swooped through like a curious pigeon, cooing quietly to myself at all the excitement the area provided on such an incredibly beautiful evening we were fortunate enough to enjoy.

The venue for our musical (Chicago) was quintessentially New York. The theater was lovely and although the seats may have been cozy, I didn’t mind. The show itself was as fun as I had hoped, including a couple of surprises I had NOT anticipated. All in all, I would definitely see this show again if for no other reason than to watch another tango!

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Saturday, September 13: A Loonie Day To Remember

Saturday brought reflection and renewal. After breakfast at Stage Door Deli, Richard, Kirk, and I visited the 9/11 Memorial and Museum. It was my second visit there, but the weight of the space never lessens. We paused at the Survivor Tree, its branches alive with ribbons and tributes; it’s a powerful reminder that resilience is its own kind of beauty.

From there, we shifted moods — because that’s what travel does best — and headed to Chelsea Market. There’s no polite way to describe the market other than delicious chaos. Along with Richard, I dove headfirst into a bowl of kimchi ramen at Mokbar and devoured it ravenously while trying to decide if I had room to try another treat while we were there. Kirk chose to graze in a different pasture but seemed equally happy with his nibbles when he joined us at a communal table.

After exploring nearby Little Island’s whimsical hills and the greenery of the High Line, my phone battery begged for mercy — every turn was another photo-worthy opportunity and I was determined to take advantage of every magical moment!

As we waited for the train to leave the station, I suggested to the group that we celebrate this road trip with a “Ranger’s Roadtrip Fashion Show“; within seconds, Donna hopped up and began strutting and posing the house down, and Karen was all too happy to join in. Debbie decided to go all in; by the end of her escapade, there were dollar bills on the floor and astonished red faces all around the cabin! Kirk made quick work of the runway with a mix of Eartha Kitt sass and RuPaul class before striking a pose that created one of my favorite photos from this trip!

We eventually made it to the game, breathless from laughter; I was running on fumes but wouldn’t have traded it for anything! Although I left the game a bit early, apologizing before taking the 7 Train and zombie-strolling back to the hotel in a haze of exhaustion, I was happy to see that everyone else had King Konged their way through the rest of the evening with a visit to the Empire State Building after the game!

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Sunday, September 14: Sleepin’ Wit Da Fishes

Sunday dawned with the promise of our last full day in the city. Central Park greeted us in all its sprawling glory, guided by Lyall — part historian, part botanist, part caffeinated philosopher. He brought the park to life with stories that made even the pigeons seem profound.

Lunch at Katz’s Delicatessen followed, where chaos and sandwiches reign supreme. I was prepared for madness, but I wasn’t prepared for that pastrami! My matzo ball soup was incredible, and thanks to Donna’s quick photo reflexes, I have visual evidence of my first (demure) nibble of their pastrami on rye!

Kirk, Richard, and I followed lunch with a visit to the Tenement Museum for the “After the Famine” tour, honoring the Irish immigrants who were forced to rebuild their lives from scratch. The story of Joseph and Bridget Moore reminded me that every traveler — whether by ship, train, or subway — carries both dreams and ghosts along for the ride.

That evening, we dove into a Mafia-centric food tour where every bite came with a side of intrigue. Beginning with a bite at a local restaurant for former Mafiosi, stories of suspicion and retribution set the table for a delectable evening!

Our guide, Dennis, was a retired NYC police detective whose stories were half police report, half stand-up routine. Somewhere between the meatballs and the eggplant roll-ups, I ended up chatting with a lovely couple from Japan who had moved to the city a few years ago. Apologizing for our intrusion into their date night, I had a fun conversation with them as they were happy to share their evening.

Asking for their advice on respectful Japanese etiquette, the young couple graciously shared the importance of the phrase “Domo arigato” to say “thank you”. Grinning as I attempted to shake my thick-as-syrup Oklahoma drawl, her husband encouragingly gave me a thumbs-up, which I accepted as the international sign of approval.

We ended the night at Club Cumming — Alan Cumming’s intimate, eclectic cabaret where the energy was somewhere between Broadway and Berlin. The performances were bold, the crowd was electric, and the outfits….well, let’s just say “minimalist” in the most imaginative sense.

As I sat there, surrounded by thunderous laughter, a kaleidoscope of neon lights, and the joyful absurdity of it all, I was reminded that this mix of friendship, chaos, and discovery is exactly what makes every Rangers Roadtrip worth taking! Hugs till we chat again!