tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10219281.post111628115101850131..comments2023-09-16T07:50:15.160-07:00Comments on Simply Fred Smith: Writers... WriteFrederick Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06931988603225411355noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10219281.post-1116298343395205892005-05-16T19:52:00.000-07:002005-05-16T19:52:00.000-07:00If you blink, you'd miss it. Astor Court is one of...If you blink, you'd miss it. <BR/><BR/>Astor Court is one of those hidden gems that make life in Manhattan almost <EM>liveable</EM>. It's a postage stamp-sized sliver of grass that only city planners here would call a <EM>park</EM>. Down south or back home in Chicago, you might call it a sculpture garden. But this was an oasis of peace on East 51st, tucked between the Ukranian Permanent Mission and a reformed synagogue. <BR/><BR/>As usual, lunch time meant the several benches were filled with young diplomats, sales analysts, commuters and anyone else with a laptop and brown bag.<BR/><BR/>Then they arrived. Two gorgeous 20-something brothaz. Black shirts, black slacks, beautiful spring neckties. <BR/><BR/>"They're cops," someone said at ear level. It was my coworker Tina Landau, who sometimes invited herself to keep me company during lunch. Not that two manuscripts and a stack of unedited-letters-to-the-editor weren't enough of a distraction.<BR/><BR/>I laughed at the suggestion. "Cops. In Versace?"<BR/><BR/>She frowned at her egg salad sandwich. "Fashion police maybe. Why else would a black man be on the Upper East Side." Tina caught my look. "Okay, okay. They're also editors at a trendy fashion publication on their lunch hour."<BR/><BR/>It quickly became obvious why they were in the park. The two handsome young men in black were pledges, practicing the Omega Psi Phi step. <BR/><BR/>"OMEGA! PSIIIII" cried the taller, darker one.<BR/><BR/>"PHI!" shouted his shorter friend. "PHI!"<BR/><BR/>For the next five minutes, they wordlessly stepped in motion, perfectly in sync. Their performance was good, not as disciplined as the Q-Dawgs from my undergrad days ... but they had potential.<BR/><BR/>Across the mini-"park" at the gate, another handsome clean-cut chocolate drop was also clad in black. He looked at the two performing, snapped his fingers and they stopped on a dime. The pledges silently marched away.<BR/><BR/>Tina tugged at my shoulder. "Now that's entertainment!"Rodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14836018481765878405noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10219281.post-1116297701945830622005-05-16T19:41:00.000-07:002005-05-16T19:41:00.000-07:00So who's crossing?Looks like some Alphas steppin' ...So who's crossing?<BR/><BR/>Looks like some Alphas steppin' (Hey Rashid...How You Doin?) people standing around milling, wanting to be apartDubbed As Trent Jacksonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09643712183131246492noreply@blogger.com