Under The Folding Branches

Finally, it’s spring here and everybody knows it. Friday was mojito 4.20 in Hell’s Kitchen, freeloading at a birthday party for a total stranger, and Saturday was the first barbecue of the year, on a spectacular rooftop in Park Slope, with people I (thankfully) know pretty damned well. And no spring weekend would be complete without the handlebar bike ride I took down Houston Street on Sunday afternoon, like somebody who has all the health insurance in the world.