Quick Run to Big Apple

One of the decisions made during our return trip from leaf peeping on Monday was a modified run down to New York City to visit the Panamanian Consulate there. While we were discussing our planned trip there to get some documents stamped (Panamanians love stamped documents) for application for my residency visa, my wife revealed they only remain open to the public until 1PM. This would have made the planned trip down in the morning a bit challenging if anything delayed us, note again that I was traveling with a Panamanian woman (renowned for their punctuality) and the bulk of the trip would be through Connecticut, ‘nuff said.

Wife at the Irish Pub

We decided to get a hotel room for Tuesday night and hit the consulate first thing this morning. The consulate is not too far from Times Square so that made the hotel search easy but a tad expensive. We ended up at the Night Hotel which is right on top of Tomes Square and an easy walk from Grand Central Station although fraught with danger since it involved walking through the diamond district with a very interested partner. We took the train from New Haven and were in our hotel room by 6pm. There was an Irish Pub directly across the street which made dinner also very easy.  

Both of us in Times Square

We caught some of the playoff baseball games including the stunning Cubs win which had the bar yelling in appreciation – courtesy of some visiting Chicagoans. After dinner we wandered out into the zoo that is Times Square at night. Some of the theaters were just getting out so a true sea of tourists milled about the denizens of the Square. There were superheroes galore, most of them speaking Spanish and one very disturbing character with a giant baby’s head mask wearing a large diaper. New additions to the fauna were two naked ladies wearing only body paint. My wife asked me if I wanted to take a picture with them, my negative response was apparently the correct answer. We texted a couple pictures to the “kids” who demanded to know what we were doing in NYC without their knowledge and approval. It’s good to sneak away every now and then.

After our Walk Through - Taking A Breath before Walking Back

Some Sort of TV Show Was Being Shot - I think it Might Have Been Mr. Robot (guy in White Shirt)

It was a nice if very short visit; I’ll finish up the account tomorrow. It did however provide a very nice template for something we’ve talked about for years; taking the train down to NYC to see a Broadway play and staying overnight. I have it on good authority the Irish pub will still be there.  We plan on doing that as soon as this whole new grandchild furor does down – so next year at the earliest.

After Making the Correct Decision

Over the weekend I finished off a book I’d been looking forward to for a long time with a little bit of concern. I’ve written before how much I loved the character Mitch Rapp and bemoaned the all too early death of his creator, author Vince Flynn. The reins for Rapp were passed to another author, Kyle Mills, to continue the saga. The Survivor appeared on my Kindle when I finished my latest Scudder novel and was listed as co-authored by Vince Flynn and Kyle Mills. I was worried about Rapp changing or lose some of his compelling abilities with the loss of Flynn.

My worries were not founded. Mills does a fabulous job of taking up Rapp’s story and if anything makes him more dangerous, not an easy task. Rapp continues to contain the damage from a rogue agent’s release of information. He globe trots from the Middle East to Northern Siberia to quell problems while simultaneously dealing with the long delayed reaction to his wife’s untimely demise. It had all of Flynn’s old flair and his simultaneous coercion to continue reading. I couldn’t put it down, a great read. I look forward to Mills’ future Rapp stories, he certainly did right by Flynn. Some words from The Survivor, as Rapp needs to get some information from a reluctant chef:

Rapp had heard enough of this Muslim superpower bullshit from Gadai and his patience was finished. The dossier on Marri had been thrown together at the last minute from public domain information but it didn’t paint a picture of a man with any real convictions. He was neither a religious fundamentalist nor a political radical. No, Marri was just a pathetic little man looking to better his social status. He had no desire to martyr himself. Rapp glanced back at the slabs of meat hanging near the rear of the refrigerator. Finding an empty hook, he grabbed Marri with both hands and began driving him back. When they were less than three feet from the steel spoke, he lifted the chef off his feet. “Stop!” Marri’s scream was loud enough that it would have been heard throughout the palace if they hadn’t closed up the refrigerator. Rapp didn’t stop though. He accelerated. Marri’s back was only inches from the hook when Rapp pulled right and slammed him into a wall stained with dried blood.