Patrick J. Sauer Online

March marked the ten year anniversary of my move back to New York City.

As it happened, I did a reading for Mr. Beller's Neighborhood and wanted to celebrate the occasion with a look back. Here are ten snapshots of a decade goneby.

It's been quite a run, through good times and bad, and I wouldn't trade a day of it.

Well, maybe we would all be better off without one day in particular, but I learned more about the enduring power of humanity than I ever thought possible. 

New York City isn't for everyone, even if the crowds seem to say otherwise, but it works for me.

To quote another beautiful girl in ruby red shoes, "be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."

I went to this rather odd, yet endearing, lunch at the famous Broadway hangout  Sardi's.

One day, I hope to have the honor of a caricature hanging proudly on the wall alongside Kermit.  

In my apartment, of course, not at Sardi's. That will never happen.

This little yearn first ran at Mr. Beller's Neighborhood, where it is always a beautiful day.  

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It's Labor Day, which means only one thing: Nobody is going to be doing any work.

Sounds ironic, but the holiday came about in 1882 as a way to give "a day off for all working citizens." 

So don't exert yourself too much this weekend, not even while manning a grill. There is no shame in ordering pizza.

Labor Day also traditionally marks the end of summer. And to me, summer always means lazy time at whatever swimming pool is available.

Growing up, that meant the backyard. Today, it means Gotham's finest municipal pools.

That's right. We join the washed masses (pre-swim showers are required) in city pools. Here's a meandering hazy essay about the Power Broker who built the best of them, and the everyday Joes and Joses getting wet in them today. 

A mighty Huzzah! to Mr. Beller's Neighborhood for the long-running forum in which New York City writers tell their sordid tales.

Don't forget that the University of Southern California football men start their quest for the national championship this Saturday at 3:30 EST against the Virginia plantation owners. C'mon fellas, it's been four long years without a title. What's the name of that Trojan coach again.... Pete Carroll. Hey, I know that guy!

Since the holidays are upon us, I am giving you the gift of an extra post this week...primarily so I can take a week off to get ready for the Rose Bowl.

I say USC 42, Illinois 10.

This is a heartwarming tale of how the fine citizens of Billings got together to make a bunch of racist thugs look even smaller than the minds that drive their idiocy.

And how Hollywood tried to ruin it.

Thanks to my Jewish brethren at Jewcy for running this story and letting the fancy-pants-blue-staters know that my hometown out in the hinterlands cares about their fellow man, even their fellow Hebrew man, as much as urbanites. (Considering our Democratic Governor and Senators, I didn’t label Montana as a red state…suck it NRA.)

This piece has a few pictures from the batcrap crazy Italian Dyker Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, where they have been competing in the Clark W.Griswold “I have more lights than you” event since the late fifties.

To see all the photos that Kim took, cut & paste this Flickr spread: http://www.flickr.com/photos/22068905@N03/sets/72157603516643492/show/

Pay special attention to Elmo; it looks like he just lost a Muppet knife fight.

Happy, merry, jolly, mazel tov everyone.

Best in 2008.

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