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Last night I braved the Christmassault that is Rockefeller Center in December, and, though the rendition of "Carol of the Bells" Saks uses for its light show is so aggressive I think it may violate the Geneva Convention, I was shocked to find the mob was tolerably low-key, tourists were actually stepping aside to snap their selfies, there was only one clangy Salvation Army santa, and all the shops were calm and uncrowded. It was a true Christmas miracle, and my only theory so far is that the Rapture has in fact occurred. Luckily for us, the beer and cider have been left behind for us to drink! Hoping to carry on this gentler festive vibe, I will be celebrating my birthday pubnight at Park Slope's cozy and chill Owl Farm. With one of the nicest and nerdiest beer lists around, I hope you can come take a break and raise a glass with me.
Fa la!
Lisa
(I also miraculously had room to spread out with my knitting in a half-empty F train that ran speedily the whole way home, but I'm chalking that one up to Hanukkah.)