Sometimes I worry that writers are becoming obsolete, that we are, at best, quaint relics from a simpler time, but then something happens and I am reminded that writers continue to serve an important role in modern society. Tonight was such a night. I was walking in Manhattan when I was stopped at the corner of 8th Avenue and 23rd Street by a good looking woman riding a bicycle. She needed my help. It soon became apparent that she needed the kind of help that could only be provided by a professional writer. In a city of more than 8 million people, I marveled that she had somehow stopped a writer on the street corner. I didn’t tell her of her good fortune, but when she asked me in her best come-hither voice if I knew the past tense of “ride” I smiled and proudly answered “rode.”
It was a good night, indeed, to be a writer in NYC.