A Tale of Two Cities, the Best of Times, and the Worst of Times, London and Paris.

But this is NYC, Mannahattas, and we’re not even talking Second City, Chicago.

A tale of two sons, both beautiful, loving, and hey, getting down to it, perfect. PERFECT.

H-E is domiciled up here in 9 East 71st Street, and no one is talking to her about WHY.

Who knows? These of 9 East 71st Street are the Dream Makers, King Makers– Queen Makers. Some of these cats call Queen, correctly and appropriately, Momma. So, though H-E has a presentiment she’s not come to the Kingdom of the New York Knicks to “get with it”, “pull together as a team”, or suit up with the boys, go pro, shoot hoops, “warm up”, the dream makers of 9 East 71st Street can, if you will, MAKE IT HAPPEN>>> PERFECT.

In the meantime, H-E is not exposed to the mean times of wandering the streets, vagrantly. She’s not on the Mean Streets. She enjoyed the movie, especially noticing how short De Niro really is. In Mean Streets he was playing to his true stature. In Mean Streets they did have a little thing a’ going, among themselves. A trickle of real, of love, of aesthetic. Enjoyment. I would call it anti-homelessness.

H-E was in danger of homelessness. Having left her sweet home Alabama, (sweet home Nebraska), she had no idea of the risks she was taking, nor that odds were against her. Really, really against her. I mean– really, really, really, against her. Where does she find herself? The finest little genius-financier-hollywood producer-MIT-Harvard safe harbor, in Texas.