One of the cool things about blogging (or guest blogging, as the case may be) is that life's myriad annoyances are suddenly transformed into narrative material. (Day 5 and I'm finally getting the hang of this...)
OK, so here goes:
Yesterday, I took the train from Albany — the station closest to my house — down to New York City. When I got to Manhattan, the weather was horrendous — it was snowing, but also sporadically hailing and raining — and the sidewalks were coated with crunchy slush. I had to get from Penn Station to the studios of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, at Third Avenue at 47th Street. (The things authors will do for their books — would they even do them for their children?) I could take the subway only as far as Grand Central, at Lexington and 42nd Street. By the time I had walked the rest of the way, I was sopping. I was ushered into the lobby and left to entertain myself with a stack of old Newsweeks. After a while, the technician came to fetch me. I was still wet and, by now, freezing.
"Doesn't seem like global warming, does it?" she said cheerfully.
"That's the ...