Beer, Soda, Ice Cream
. . . . and snow in the night light delights of Mott St where I never go without hearing the lyrics of
Cole PorterLorenz 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!