There is a relentless social energy that exists in this town. It doesn't matter if you are gay or straight; both worlds work well with each other. In fact, they compliment each other here.

It is often a magical place to live. I don't know why I keep thinking of moving back to Newport.

I ran into Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish again this evening, visiting Ditmar on his "farewell" party at Score. She was with Mrs. Wilderming and her handsome consort. I quipped, "Mamie, I've seen you for twenty-nine out of the last twenty-eight nights I've been out. Don't you have a holding order or something to keep you in?" (She was sporting a very, very expensive piece of eye wear that I had not seen before and wondered whether they were for "presence" or actually allowed her to see something.)

She shot back, "I crawled across a minefield in a train to get here tonight." And, I replied, "I cut my way through barbed wire in satin slippers to attend this find evening." We both, understanding each other completely, looked each other in the eye and cackled.