Antonio, Broadway ManhattanThere are cool customers, and then there's Antonio. I've known Antonio for a few years and each year he gets successively cooler. I don't know how he does it. Level head, keen insight, low intensity high intensity. One slips into a different mental time-frame when hanging out with this guy. At least I do. And it's for the better. Mitzi refers to him as impish. I prefer wry. Either way, he knows how to look at you cross-eyed without ever crossing his eyes.
3 comments:
Antonio may be too cool to correct you, but I think it is actually wry, not rye that he is. I like that someone can be wry. For some reason I picture it as a damp cloth firmly twisted, the last drop of excessive moisture collecting at the center, then falling out of frame.
That's it, wry. And yet, and yet. That word, wry, seems to have an awful lot to do with that other word, rye, to me. Wry tastes like rye.
Is there a literary term for that coincidence. The coincidence between words that sound the same, are spelled differently and mean different things, yet somehow make sense to the palate?
Maybe you could do a satellite NYC Answer Phone NYC Annex for this one.
alright, I'll just change it. no holding breath here.
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