Last night’s music: Chromatics 2010 CD, “In The City.”

New York City’s blocks are a series of thumb prints in my mind. I like running at night, the streets are quiet, which makes it easier to settle into thoughts, though often they wade to the basest memories. Or always. Stupidity. Shame. Sex. Oy. Veigh.
When I was 19 years-old I found myself desperately in love with a stranger. This wasn’t uncommon for me, and still happens on a regular basis. In this case she was the juicer at my local juice bar. Far out of my league, with avocado oiled skin that seemed to glow with the nourishment of her organic diet. In I would walk with my inferior skin, and try desperately to make conversation. She was polite, and often obliged. After my fifth visit, conversation escalated from small conversation, to mid-range, to a slip of paper reading,

“Would you like to get dinner sometime?

O Yes.

O Maybe.

O No, but I still think you’re cute.”

Miraculously, she ticked off yes and wrote down her number.

A week later – after an inappropriate amount of outfit changes for anyone of the XY persuasion – I made my way to her apartment. We were going to go to a great organic… ahem… restaurant just off Bowery. I was nervous. And excited. And sweating. And shit, I’m already messing things up aren’t I? Am I interesting? I’m interesting, right? Are my nails okay? Should I have painted them? Of course not. Men don’t paint their nails. But what if they do? What if that’s the new thing, and I haven’t read about it. I need to read more. Keep up with fashion. Fads. Trends. How else am I going to snag my dream girl? I won’t. I’ll be alone forever. So why bother? I should just go home.

“I’m just finishing up in here, should be ready in a minute.” Her roommate let me in, a pretty, perky blonde girl with a shark tooth grin. After a few minutes, Juice Girl came out. I should’ve painted my nails. She looked lovely. Glow on high. Me on high. “Should we have a drink before we go?” She asked.

“Why not?” A simple question, with a simple answer: because she only had organically distilled vodka. The wunderbitch of booze. The kind that either makes me vomit or go crazy, or both. To top it off, she didn’t have any mixers. Reflexively, my body shook as she handed me the brimming glass. I prepped for that rubbing alcohol taste, refusing to be a rude houseguest, and hoping, perhaps, that the devils brew might calm the nerves. I downed it. All of it. Let it swoosh and swill. Push and pour through my system, into my brain, round and round we go. “Do you want to come to dinner with us?” Juice Girl asked roommate. WHAT? No. Vodka was enough to fuck up my planned evening. A third wheel would… It would… Would… Fuck I was drunk.

Fast forward three hours, through an evening of three way conversation hardly remembered in my vodka daze. Roommate finally let up, and gave us a little alone time, during which, Juice Girl realized I was six years younger than her and whatever dusty hopes of romance I had, blew away, out from under the crack of my hollow mind. It was late and we were West. She said she needed to head home, and I insisted that I walk her to her train at 14th and 7th. It was late after all, and she was a beautiful woman.

We hugged goodbye, and I headed back to my parents place in Greenwich Village. I took out my iPod and tuned into my favorite “bad date” song: “The Promise,” by When in Rome. The night was balmy, so I took my button down off and walked comfortably in my V-neck, slinging the long sleeve over my shoulder. Drunkenly I shouted the words to the song, “I’m sorry nnn djust inking of the righ erds to say. I no they on’t soun tha way I plan them ta be. But you wait roun I make oo faw fer me. I PROMISE! I PROMISE YOU!” Two shadows loomed in front of me. Walked with me. Behind me. I looked back and saw two not so happy looking gentlemen, in the latest Ed Hardy couture and baggy jeans. Something clicked in my head. You’re about to get hit. But I laughed that off. Sure it was late, but I was not a beautiful girl. There’s no reason for them to-

The four knuckles slammed into the lower right part of my head, as another hand grabbed it as it shot forward, and slammed it into the nearest lamppost. To clarify, the “it” in this situation, was my head. Everything went black. Calm black. Nice black. But then my eyes fluttered. White. Then red. Then the street. Whoops and cheers down the block. They were still in my eye line, but had run almost all the way down the block. They were gone. Gone… What else was gone? I checked my pocket. Cellphone was still there. My back pocket. Wallet was still there. My ears, headphones still in, “When you need a friend, don’t look to a stranger,” playing from my iPod… Which wasn’t stolen either. I touched my forehead. It was wet with blood. I reached for my button down, hoping to clean it up.

But it wasn’t there. My button down was gone. I looked around my vicinity, thinking perhaps it had fallen off my shoulder, with the whirling head thrust, but no. It was gone. They hadn’t stolen my wallet, my cellphone or my iPod. They had taken my button down. I felt a confused rage, wanting to shout at them, “If you’re going to mug me! Mug me!” I was bleeding. Knocked unconscious. On the ground. In the city I grew up in. The only thought that could calm my nerves: perhaps this meant I was a beautiful woman.

A new addition reminds us that our town is still king of the morning show

By Christopher Moore

Over many years, Charlie Rose spent a tremendous number of hours in my bedroom. Before discovering the life-altering advantages of the DVR, I often ended my day with Rose on public TV. So his move two weeks ago to the CBS morning program sent my routine into confusion.

Rose, an official Man About Town, did not just bring a new table and passion for run-on sentences to CBS This Morning. He also came with a couple of new cohosts: Gayle King, Oprah’s official best friend, and Erica Hill, who is not actually new—she’s a holdover from the prevous incarnation of the CBS morning show. The flaws of her new cohosts make Hill look better every day.

All of this is important to me because I’m addicted to morning TV. These days, I bounce from the media monster Today to the chatty Good Day New York and the clubby Morning Joe, but I go way back. I was a little kid who knew who David Hartman was.

As a fan of fake intimacy, I like watching morning anchors pretend to like each other. They desperately try to create a sense of community, often copying each other along the way. They sometimes insist they are a “family,” even though in these families, the members get tossed around from show to show with disconcerting speed.

Also fun: watching high-profile talents pretend to be interested in the range of topics they tackle. If there was anything more compelling on American television in the last few decades than watching Diane Sawyer appear in cooking segments during her Good Morning America days, well, I missed it.

So This Morning is right up my alley. Rose is known in Manhattan and D.C. for being an A-list party guest. Watching him in the morning, all sluggish mien and dead eyes, seems simultaneously hilarious and scary. By the end of week one, he had such a bad cold that it was painful to watch. If he were still alive, Dr. Kevorkian would be on speed dial over at CBS.

The new show opened with a thoughtful 90-second review of the news, Eye Opener. Most of the attention during the premier week, though, went to King’s interview with Michelle Obama. She insisted she was looking forward to campaigning for her husband, but failed to come up with any reason anyone would support him. As usual, the disengaged first lady took a pass on getting involved in important political matters. This is not Eleanor Roosevelt we’re talking about.
It takes two, though, to come up with an interview this bad. King was obsequious in talking to someone she described as a friend. Dismissive of Jodi Kantor’s new book, The Obamas, King did not, so far as I recall, bother to mention the extent of her support for the first family. According to a quick trip to Fundrace.HuffingtonPost.com, one of my favorite websites, King gave thousands of dollars last year to Obama Victory Fund 2012.

Obviously, it’s a new era in American journalism. We don’t even pretend to be objective any longer. Fine. Objectivity never really existed, but fairness could. So could full disclosure. Yes, I’ve wondered whether and which candidates deserve my financial support. But did CBS News really need to send King to interview her buddy the same week it ran ads about taking a fresh, hard-news approach on This Morning?

Couldn’t Rose have done this interview? Sure, sometimes he answers questions he himself has asked, but he could probably have handled the assignment.

Ah, I’m being cranky. King has a certain game presence, and I’m one of 17 people nationally who watched the show she did on OWN. She’s a TV personality; being a newswoman would be a separate matter.

King is a natural at fake intimacy. Sometimes, though, news judgment is called for—especially when the bosses are bragging that they have it.

Christopher Moore is a writer living in Manhattan. He is available by email at ccmnj@aol.com and is on Twitter
(@cmoorenyc).

The two-for-one philosophy of hosting

By Jeanne Martinet

As most savvy New York hosts know, when you throw a large cocktail party, you can expect approximately 60 percent of the invitees to attend. Of the 40 percent who don’t come, most have a scheduling conflict or illness and are truly sorry to be missing the affair.  So, what if you immediately offered these people an alternative—a kind of make-up party?

That’s exactly what my friends Ned and Donna did. They held a big cocktail party one Saturday night and invited the people who sent “regrets” to a smaller party the very next Saturday.

Now, Ned and Donna are people who do not entertain very much, so at first it sounded crazy to me that they would decide to have two parties in a row. But this nonhosting tendency on the part of this couple is in fact why the double party idea was perfect for them. Once they had managed to find the impetus to entertain, whipped their house into guest-ready shape (cleaning it from top to bottom, even rearranging the furniture) and stocked the larder with staples like soda, snacks and booze, the second, smaller party was a veritable snap for them. They even had leftover wine and supplies that the guests from the first party had brought them.

Having two parties in a row may sound exhausting, but it can be much more efficient than spreading them out. You can pay back everyone you owe an invitation in a spectacular one-two punch. Really, it’s like getting out all the painting equipment to paint a room and then deciding that, while you’re at it, you may as well paint another small room at the same time.

Also, having a second gathering is a great way for the hosts to soak up every bit of fun they can; after working hard to make a party happen, hosts can feel it is over too quickly. Most people I talk to who, for one reason or another, had dreaded hosting a party are so energized afterward they wonder why they don’t host more often. Might as well have another party while you are in the mood!

You can also employ a similar version of this kind of party clustering when you find you have more than one dinner party you need to give. Instead of hosting one dinner one month and one another month, have a dinner party weekend. Make one big pot of something hearty and fabulous—say, oxtail stew, boston butt or chili–then hold two dinner parties one after the other.

Contrary to what one might think, the second set of guests are not getting shortchanged, because by the second dinner you are probably more relaxed (having cleaned and shopped like a madwoman before the first one), and often the Italian pot roast you spent hours making is even better the second day.

Of course, in the case of back-to-back dinner parties, the guests must not know about each other at all. While a make-up cocktail party is like being offered a wonderful consolation prize, being part of a double dinner party weekend can seem more like a prize cut in half.

The one rule to follow when hosting consecutive parties is that you can never let the people at the second party get the idea that your first party was in any way more enjoyable than the one you are having with them right now. You want them to feel fortunate and much sought-after, as if you are going to extra trouble just for them—which, in a sense, you are.

The people who could not attend the primary event should feel flattered that you have gone out of your way to extend your hospitality to them. It’s as if you are saying to them, “I want to have you over so much I will even have a do-over just to get you here!” even though it is really a case of a relatively easy two-for-the-fuss-of-one for you.

Speaking of two for one, I somehow got to go to both of the lovely parties given by Ned and Donna. Not fair that they invited me to both? Hey, there’s got to be some perk to this whole Miss Mingle thing!

Jeanne Martinet, aka Miss Mingle, is the author of seven books on social interaction. Read her blog at MissMingle.com.

Compiled by Megan Bungeroth

Vudu Lounge Closed
According to the 19th Precinct, the infamous Vudu Lounge on First Avenue between 77th and 78th streets is closing its doors for good and handed over its liquor license to the State Liquor Authority this week. The nightclub, which was popular with young partiers and reviled by neighborhood residents, has been plagued with problems over the past few years. The NYPD closed them down temporarily last May, but the club came back and was holding mandatory quarterly meetings with residents to address their concerns over the noise and late-night loitering.

“I was relieved to hear Vudu Lounge has finally closed its doors,” said State Sen. Liz Krueger, who has worked with other local officials to quell the problems coming from the establishment. “With numerous State Liquor Authority investigations and multiple counts of violent behavior and underage drinking to its name, Vudu Lounge simply didn’t belong in our neighborhood.”

Calls to manager Michael Stein for comment were not returned, but a source said that the owners were hoping to find a more amenable location downtown.

Bar Gets a Sports Fan Facelift
When the Giants face off against the Patriots this Sunday for a Super Bowl rematch, Mayor Michael Bloomberg can rest easy knowing he’s scrubbed as many references to the New England team as possible from the city. Just as they did four years ago, the mayor’s office is targeting establishments whose names might falsely belie an allegiance to the enemy (we’re guessing anything with the words patriots, Boston or Gisele Bundchen) and asking them to make a temporary moniker switch in support of the home team. On the Upper East Side, Brady’s Bar, on Second Avenue near 82nd Street, will again take up a new mantle for the weekend: Manning’s. The quarterback switch is fully supported by owner Dan Brady, a diehard Big Blue fan. He said that the mayor should be in attendance for the renaming ceremony on Friday afternoon; check their website bradysbar.comfor updates and the exact time.

Bill to Protect Jobs of Pregnant Women
State Sen. Liz Krueger is sponsoring a bill that would require employers to make “reasonable accommodations” for pregnant women on the job. Currently, employers are barred from discriminating against pregnant women and must make accommodations for disabled workers. Because pregnancy is not considered a disability, however, employers are not required to make any concessions for pregnant woman and can legally fire them for, say, taking too many bathroom breaks or requesting to sit. Krueger’s bill, which is being introduced in the assembly by upstate Democratic Assembly Member Aileen Gunther, would close that legal gap.

The bill’s language states that employers must take action to “allow pregnant women to perform in a reasonable manner the activities involved in the job or occupation sought or held and include, but are not limited to, provision of an accessible worksite, acquisition or modification of equipment, support services for persons with impaired hearing or vision, job restructuring and modified work schedules; provided, however, that such actions do not impose an undue hardship on the business, program or enterprise of the entity from which action is requested.”
Dina Bakst, founder and president of A Better Balance: The Work and Family Legal Center, wrote on Tuesday’s New York Times op-ed page that the law is a “public health necessity” and called it a necessary measure to ensure the safety of pregnant women who may not ask for accommodations if they fear being fired.

New Show Parodies Upper East Side
The Upper East Side is a popular home base for fictional characters, and now ABC has commissioned a new show set in the ritzy section—this time with a supernatural twist. The show, 666 Park Avenue, is based on a book series by Gabriella Pierce and revolves around a Midwestern couple who comes to live at and manage the eponymous address and soon discovers that the tenants have all made deals with the devil in order to attain their fantastic lives and have their darkest desires fulfilled.

Produced by the team that delivered Gossip Girl and The Vampire Diaries, the show seems to be taking advantage of the most popular aspects of both of those successes. Something tells us that it won’t be portraying Upper East Siders in the best light, but then again, neither does Gossip Girl, and that’s been a hit.

Musical Open House for Kids
The 92nd Street Y is holding a free open house for its School of Music on Sunday, Feb. 5 from 1–4 p.m. Children ages 3 to 9 can take mini classes in the different styles offered and parents can meet instructors and discuss the methodologies of each class. Offerings include Delcroze, a program for toddlers that helps them develop rhythmic skills through musical interpretation of children’s stories, courses in using GarageBand to record original music and introductory violin instruction for little ones. At 1395 Lexington Ave. Visit 92Y.org for more information.

Local Doorman and Driver Made Richer
The New York Post reported earlier this week that millionaire music exec and high stakes poker player Alan Meltzer, who died at 67 this past Halloween, left a huge chunk of change in his will to his Park Avenue doorman and personal chauffeur. Meltzer was divorced and had no children, and both of his former employees, who received about $1 million and $500,000 respectively, told the Post that their boss was always kind and generous to them.

By Alan S. Chartock

In politics, there is an old saying: “First you have to win.” A corollary is “Winning is everything.” Another companion idiom in American politics is “There are no co-winners.”

I was speaking with someone the other day who said that in the American presidency, Democrats get the chance to be either Jimmy Carter, a man with integrity who lost, or Bill Clinton, who was all about winning. With that in mind, let’s take a look at President Barack Obama’s State of the Union address and just a few of its implications for New York State and its voters.

A lot of people voted for Obama when he said, “Yes we can!” They thought he meant, “Yes we can [fill in the blank].” Many of them were disappointed when he showed that he’d rather be a Clinton winner than a Carter loser; he had the center left, and they weren’t going anywhere. He needed to win the folks in the middle and those who held the purse strings in the skewed economic system in which we live.

You need money to win. You can call these people the 1 Percenters. If you are not taking from their pot, they might actually let you live. There were many folks who wanted to punish the bankers whose antics left so many people with homes that were underwater, but many of those in key economic positions around Obama were way too close to the bad guys in the great American economic disaster.

If you examine the State of the Union message, you can see two Obamas.

One is the progressive president. He tells the college-aged that he is with them when it comes to how much their education is costing them and their families. This is the group of people who helped put Obama over the top in the last election and he needs them back. He needs their passion. By telling young people that the federal government will punish states and colleges that raise tuition, he re-energizes those kids to get out and vote and work for him.

On the other hand, in New York, State University Chancellor Nancy Zimpher, a ball of fire, and Gov. Andrew Cuomo came together with the Legislature in an agreement to save SUNY in this very tough economic climate. In order to do that, the University, which has always been a relative bargain, is raising tuition.

My bet is that the folks who fashioned that deal cannot be happy with what they heard from the president. To some degree, I imagine they thought they were being punched in the solar plexus.

They weren’t the only ones. There was the proposal by Obama that we move ahead with hydrofracking, a drilling process that employs dangerous chemicals to extract natural gas from shale. Here in New York, there has been so much passion appropriately raised about hydrofracking that Cuomo, thought by some to have been in favor of it, seems to have cooled on the idea. No matter how much politicians want the revenue and energy that hydrofracking might provide, they can’t seem to convince the people to accept a process that threatens to poison our drinking water.

So here we have just two of the many things that the president spoke about that may be good for his politics but not necessarily good for the people of New York State. Let’s face it: The president knows what he has to do to win. Under no circumstances will he lose New York State. He will get these electoral votes, so he doesn’t have to worry about New York the way he might about Florida or Ohio. It’s sort of like a wife who will always be there as opposed to a fickle mistress. Get the analogy?

Alan S. Chartock is president and CEO of WAMC/Northeast Public Radio and an executive publisher at The Legislative Gazette.

To the Editor:
In response to “Neighbors Won’t See the Light of New Cancer Center” (Jan. 26), I must speak up for my building (440 E. 62nd St.) and the community of the Upper East Side. Your account of the meeting was different than what I witnessed and missed or dismissed the most important points. Those points are:

1) The effect on traffic. Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center (MSKCC) admittedly did not perform a traffic feasibility analysis. Currently, traffic often backs up onto the FDR Drive in either direction. Currently, traffic backs up onto the Queensboro Bridge. This will worsen considerably.

Consider this: MSKCC’s building will have no garage, only a driveway. Post-operative patients, by law, must be accompanied out of the building by someone. Do you think they will walk with their escort up the hill to the subway? No! Someone will be waiting for them in a car, probably on York Avenue.

2) MSKCC’s unwillingness to even talk to its neighbors. MSKCC filed its request for variances (allowances to build beyond what New York City code allows) and fast-tracked approval just as the holiday season began. Perhaps our all-volunteer board was remiss, but the residents of the building learned of the Community Board 8 meeting with only a week’s notice.

3) Our building supports a MSKCC facility here. This is what prompted me to write this letter. Overwhelmingly, the people who spoke that night clearly stated that they had no problem with MSKCC building next door. They only wanted MSKCC to respect previous agreements negotiated with the help of Community Board 8.

Many current and former MSKCC employees live in this building. Several people living here are patients of the hospital. They merely want the building to fit into the neighborhood.

4) While residents of the affected building learned of MSKCC’s plans only a week before the community board meeting, somehow, a patient managed to show up with a prepared speech, a speech that had nothing to do with the debate or even with reality. The speech cast my building’s residents as rich people trying to deny convenient medical care to poor people like him. This is a ridiculous and insulting lie.

Your paper purports to serve the Upper East Side. Sadly, you missed the points that affect this community, namely a neverending traffic nightmare foisted on us by an uncaring, rich organization that indeed has alternatives. MSKCC has 20 other sites and presumably other “sleeper” sites like the one under discussion. Surely, a wiser location can be found.

Steve Edelstein
440 E. 62nd St.

Letters have been edited for clarity, style and brevity.

Heed those who see the big picture

By Bette Dewing

Hey, journalists Jeff Greenfield and Mark Barabak, don’t call yourself “old fogies” because you think that televised debate audiences shouldn’t react verbally, and chuck that ageist label. It implies that decorous behavior in an era of loud mouths is somehow regressive.

This comment was made in reference to Newt Gingrich benefiting from strong audience reaction in one debate but not in another where the audience was told to hush up. Gingrich is a never-at-a-loss-for-words facile speaker, and we fallible humans often value style over content.

Although I have countless ideas, words often fail me, especially when speaking in public. My Norwegian-dominant ancestry and being born left-handed likely account for my nonverbal right brain dominance. Ah, but right-brainers are very intuitive. They also see the big picture more clearly than left-brainers—and don’t we need that!

Well, I surely see the big picture on safety. Although my traffic safety “trailblazing” was officially recognized in 2006 by Upper East Side federal, state and city elected officials, I’m never consulted. Nope, the bicycling group Transportation Alternatives is the chief adviser for the city, even on planning safe streets for seniors.

No matter that TA members don’t know the elder experience or worry that bicyclists’ strong aversion to the laws of the road is what scares these vulnerable walkers the most. And why isn’t the most deadly traffic crime, motorists’ failing to yield when turning into a crosswalk, a TA priority? And if it’s true, why doesn’t TA protest how the Daily News, with its new British editor, seems to be slighting local traffic tragedy news.

Ah, but I don’t have a big mouth, charisma or chutzpah. And my anti-ageism work hasn’t yet reduced the bias against my being old. Anyway, my generation was taught that hogging the talk was selfish and boorish. Now it’s de rigeur if you want your ideas to be heeded—or even heard!

But please, you who agree with me, never call yourselves “old fogies” or “old-fashioned,” but rather recount how countless civil, common-sense and democratic ways of life were tossed out with the bathwater of ill-advised change—mostly by those without big-picture vision.

Remember my inaugural column’s quote from Ogden Nash’s New York magazine piece: “Progress was all right once, but in my lifetime, too much seems headed in the wrong direction. I think it started in Kitty Hawk when two Wrights made a wrong.”

Consider how that “wrong” sure did uproot us and ripped up the train tracks that safely connected every city and town. Traffic tragedies soared as private wheels became the land travel norm. So here’s to ordering our leaders to lower the speed limit pronto and giving all-out support for the infinitely safer and more democratic mass transit.

And while I mostly assail terrorist wheeling, kamikaze walking has got to go; thus this respectful reproach to Lorraine Duffy Merkl:

Your last column told how happy you were that your favorite wallet was eventually returned (albeit without any money) after it had slipped from your purse as you crossed a busy intersection wearing earphones. Dear Ms. Merkl, you have a mother, a daughter and a husband who need you. You also influence readers. The next time you go walking, unplug those ears. Need music? Then whistle or sing, and join my safe traveling brigade!

dewingbetter@aol.com.

Fingers crossed Big Blue will repeat Patriot win

By Josh Rogers

My head says the Giants won’t win the Super Bowl this Sunday. It’s not that I’m one of those doom and gloom Giants fans, although admittedly I was raised by one. No matter how bleak things look at the beginning of the season, I usually go in with the attitude of “Hey, if things break right this year, we could win it all.”

It didn’t start that way. The Giants were terrible my first few years watching football. To me, they were the team to root for at the beginning of the season, before teams like Dallas and Pittsburgh marched through the playoffs. I don’t ever remember thinking—or even hoping—the Giants would make the postseason.

That all changed after Lawrence Taylor came to the Giants and they started making the playoffs somewhat regularly. For the team’s past Super Bowls, my head and heart said they could win each time.

This year, it feels like a win so soon after the Giants shocked everyone and denied the Patriots’ bid for perfection is asking too much. Of course the Pats would play hard, regardless of their opponent. Yes, they’re not as seemingly invincible as they were four years ago, and yes, they have had a lot of turnover since then.

But when you get a win as sweet as Super Bowl XLII, human nature says you can’t help but expect some payback—at least, my human nature does. I understand that there are people out there who always expect to be on top and are almost never disappointed. I’m an optimist: I think you can get more good than bad, but there have to be some limits.

Beating the Patriots again may be over the line.

The 2008 game was not only the most satisfying one to me and undoubtedly most other Giant fans Fox Sports has just ranked that game as the greatest of all 45 Super Bowls.

After a frustrating 2007 season, the Giants barely limped into the playoffs with no reason to think they could make the big game, let alone beat a team they had just lost to, a team with a perfect record that appeared to be about to make history. But Eli Manning outplayed Tom Brady, escaped that rush at the end and heaved that ball that David Tyree pinned to his helmet to set up the winning touchdown.

If they win this time, Eli would finally get his due as being as good or better than any other quarterback playing now. After a career spent underrated, he’d probably spend the rest of it getting as much or more credit than he deserved.
But then there’s that damned and beloved heart talking again.

It’ll do what it can. It’ll make sure my body wears no Giants paraphernalia on game day because—to state the obvious—that would bring bad luck.

Such subtlety is lost on my 2-year-old son, who, like you, will be unlikely to even understand it when he’s an adult. He’ll do what he did for last week’s championship game. He’ll wear his Giants pajamas the night before, and while the game is presumably far from decided, he’ll wear them again and hopefully Daddy will be happy in the morning.

We’re doing what we can, including writing this column.

If I thought there were strong arguments suggesting the Giants were very likely to win, I would certainly not write them down. That’d be a jinx. Saying I think they’ll lose might work as a reverse jinx.

It’s all I can do. Go Big Blue.

Josh Rogers, contributing editor at Manhattan Media, is a lifelong New Yorker. Follow him @JoshRogersNYC.