Early in the Apple ... a Memory

In the early 1970s I had the good fortune to live on one of the most beautiful blocks in Manhattan. West 76th Street just off Central Park.

At that time there was a old man who also lived there. He could be seen regularly walking his old grizzled dog. And, surreptitiously dropping Corn kernels for the Pigeons. Now, if you live in New York City you either love the sight of those birds, or you detest them. They seem to be there just to soil every windowsill in town.

There was also a young man who lived in my row house building who did not like the man feeding those Pigeons. One day the old man saw him and went into an apoplectic rage; screaming and yelling. Very upset.

I asked the young man what was that all about. Well, he took it upon himself to stop the old guy from feeding the birds. One day when the fellow was walking his dog, dropping feed on the sidewalk, our young friend ran out of the house and sprinkled sugar on top of the corn.

And then, in a dramatic voice, he said to the old man, "And ... now, the Pigeons DIE!"

Many years later ...

What are the odds of that happening?

I was walking east on the block just off Riverside Drive on 86th Street. Mid-block I saw a Pigeon on the sidewalk maybe twenty feet away, directly in my path. When I spotted it, the Pigeon somehow seemed to spot me too. Immediately it flew toward me. Going upward at some precisely calibrated moment and angle, it let loose a dropping ... and it landed directly on my forehead, between my eyebrows. On my so-called "third eye" spot. It was warm and soothing to feel. True story. I swear. Kismet?