The lady of the lake

Howard and I have gotten into the habit of walking in the morning around Hoyt Lake. It is a blessing when you can walk down your driveway and be at a lake in five minutes, I have to say that. It is great to walk around Hoyt Lake and observe the beginnings of spring. The trees standing in ice water. The goose droppings. The acres of mud.

That is a picture of Hoyt Lake above that I found that looks pretty accurate.

Let us look back on a more glamorous era, when there were no boom cars and when Leonard Pennario was America's best-selling pianist. Here is what Hoyt Lake looked like then, or thereabouts.


What about New York State Assemblyman Sam Hoyt? He is one of my Facebook friends.



Where in Sam Hoyt was I?

Oh yes, Howard and I, walking around the lake. Saturday, while we were taking that walk, we wandered over to the Hysterical Society. I mean the Historical Society.

We went in to the library to see our friend Cynthia because a while ago she had faxed me that she had found a historic picture of Big Blue, the way it used to look in a more glamorous era before there were boom cars and when Leonard Pennario was America's best-selling pianist.

Here is Big Blue as it looks now.



There are old pictures of Big Blue that show that its entrance way was originally on the left, and there are cars at the curb that look as if it is the years when Johannes Brahms was a young man. The Hysterical Society had three such pictures. That is what we wanted to ask Cynthia about.

Right away Cynthia said: "I have very bad news." And she stood and looked at us.

Our faces paled. "What?" we asked, thinking she would say the pictures were lost, or stolen, or burned.

She said: "You are not allowed to take any pictures with digital cameras."

These librarians! They are a breed apart.

So Howard had to shell out to have "darkroom copies" printed. You would not believe how much it costs. Fifty bucks each! $150, thrown down the hatch of Big Blue! Even all the beer bottles we returned that had been sitting in the basement did not add up to that amount, I do not think. Of course, the New York State taxes I pay in one day probably would.

On the way out of the Historical Society we ran into Mayor Byron Brown!


He was wearing a kelly green sweater for St. Patrick's Day and he looked tremendously dapper as he always does. And there I am looking like a schuft in my old Levis and this jacket missing a button that I save to wear around the park.

Naturally the Mayor remembered our names. He is so smooth and perfect. And I stammered something about how I had been walking in the park.

"Oh, that's wonderful," Hizzoner remarked. "You get both good things this morning, history and exercise." He is so nice! And I looked like such a minus. I never run into important people when I am wearing my nice navy blue Mackintosh pea coat and the boots that I like and my cute Mass-going hat that Angelina Jolie copied. That is for sure.

Then the Mayor said: "Perhaps I will take your picture for my blog."

Egad! He must know I am blogging about him! That is a word I do not use nearly enough, "egad."

I will start making up for that now.