A Perfect Day Redux

Not sure what Lou Reed's constituted, but this will definitely do for me -- an early summer day with temps in the low 80s, some humidity but not oppressive, large crowds in Central Park, pursuing the abiding pleasures of the park that New Yorkers have enjoyed now for a century and a half, giving an excellent tour to a private group, babysitting the newest and joyfully interactive grandchild for four hours, Skypeing with him DD in California so she could see how he's changed in the near month she has been gone, walking through Riverside Park to the outdoor seasonal bar/restaurant across from the 106th Street dog run, having a couple margaritas in the company of four of my favorite people, younger daughter, son and his domestic partner, and the grandson, and then walking back to the apartment in a warm and soft summer night. A night to end a day in which both the Yankees and the Giants won (the Giants scoring the only run in their game on a 7th inning balk for heaven's sake. They are beginning to be like the joke I heard attributed to Don Drysdale in the 60s. Told Sandy Koufax had pitched a shutout, Big (now gone) Don replied, "Did he win?"), wins that enabled each to move back into first place in their divisions as the baseball season nears the halfway point. And now to bed with my new Kindle and Netherland. Fine.