I knew it would begin again: the daily trip to the gym. The good news was that--at 7 AM--it was warm enough to wear just T-shirts on the bike ride; the bad news was that we witnessed, what I call, the Post-New-Years-Gym-Resolution crowd. We had become accustomed to a small group at that hour, but it was packed today and there many new members being given the tour. This will, of course, last about one month before that hour is deemed too cruel and the new members will take there risks with the crowd at night. I may not be around to see this as it is doubtful I can live that long at the new pace announced this weekend by Leopoldo. (He is trying to kill me.)

Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish called me early Sunday evening to say she was walking south on the beach toward her mansion on 4th and Ocean. (I entertained an amusing image of her squashed-heeled satin pumps sinking in the sand as she clung to her last drink of the evening, her make-up smudged and her feathered hat askew.) I gave her a bit of advice to beware of sea monsters. "You can just imagine what they would think if they saw an image of great, white meat like you strolling so close to the ocean." The agreed to be vigilant.
And, I award this new porcelain figure, The Pigeen, to Baroness Seitzinger in appreciation for demonstrating that conspicuous consumption still thrives in these bad times. On Saturday evening she invited us over for a wine tasting (substituted for a sit-down dinner). This great lady--so known for her showy jewelry and that purchased title--trotted off to her nearby liquor store and bought three cases of assorted wines. This for six people. God bless her and the first-awarded Pigeen. ( I tried to have Bernie Madoff present it to her, but he ran off with one case of wine.)