Guest Blog from Wyatt: New York Minute

I spent last week in New York, and wow, did I have a blast. I could go on and on, but I won't. Instead, let me tell you about the, mmmm, for lack of a better word...oddest thing I saw while visiting the Big Apple.

Picture this: Dina is pushing me in my orange Maclaren stroller downtown after a lovely day at the Central Park Zoo. Now, you adults don't really understand being in a stroller. But you're about waist high, maybe even lower. Anyway, I make more eye contact with labradors than I do with any people (actually, that would be labradors in San Francisco, small teacup things called dogs in New York City). So anyway, we're walking down swanky 5th Avenue, past Henri Bendel's, Harry Winston, etc. etc., when I see this well-coiffed woman walking our way. She's in a beautiful summery silk dress, mostly of yellow. And she's got that New York style (you know the kind, right? The kind that takes more energy than California's are willing to expend while throwing on their fleece and tevas; ok, sorry, that's just Northern California; Southern California would be tank top and flip flops).

And then she sways her lanky arm down, and I swear to you, she scratched her crotch.

It was unabashed. She just totally gave a double scratch (meaning she scratched twice, not just once -- if it was once, you could pretend "oh my gosh, did I just touch my crotch? I was just fluffing some lint away!"). No, it was a "geez, some pube must be out of whack down there because I've got a bit of an itch." Not a full-blown itch like an "I have crabs" itch. Just an itch like the pubic hair was maybe twisting the opposite way out of the follicle than it's natural curve meant it to be.

It was like her own personal greeting to me: "Welcome to the big city, kid!"