By Patrick Dillon
If there’s one thing I can’t stand more than sending very young True Believers like me off to fight an unwinnable war with one arm tied behinds our backs, it’s walking.
Why? Because ever since I moved almost 30 years ago uptown to Harlem (where my WWII vet Irish-born father was a fireman for more than 35 years) from Hell’s Kitchen, where I was born almost 68 years ago, I’ve bicycled, uptown and down, well over 70,000 miles. That is, Dear Reader, more than twice the circumference of planet Earth.
As a result ...
Continue Reading →