Beer, Soda, Ice Cream

Mott St Snow

 . . . . and snow in the night light delights of Mott St where I never go without hearing the lyrics
of Cole Porter Lorenz Hart asking the question -

"and tell me what street, compares to Mott Street in July, sweet pushcarts gently gliding by . . .?"

Not in a sentimental way do I go down this memory lane but rather in awe that he made it work enough
for me to have it on automatic replay.  If only I had been able to commit the Periodic Table to the 
memory deck!