Andre smashed my spine tonight and that felt pretty good. He dropped me off at the 125th Street station of the Metro-North and slipped me a cigar. I stayed out at street level and fired it up -- having a good 20 minutes to kill, knowing how the station stinks of bathroom cleaner (better to stay outside, even with the cold). The stogie was pretty good. I grabbed a New York Press from the box on the corner and paged through -- hadn't read one of those in quite some time (they've lost their edge since the wild days of the late 90s). Watched the cops pull over a car and frisk the driver. With minutes to go until the 8:10 arrived, I put out my cigar and went upstairs. On the train I saw the newly re-elected Tuckahoe trustee and asked him about the election results. The challenger for mayor was a real ass -- we're pretty happy he lost. I got home and ate some pizza while the boys watched the Scooby Doo movie.

And now, it's time for some sleep. This weekend: we entertain Helen. I'll see Vito briefly when I go down there to pick her up. Maybe for fun I'll ask him to try to do something nice for her.