Gotta love Ninth Avenue: Pam Real Thai Food; Fluff.

New York, New York. The town so cool they broke the double name rule. On Friday the 14th, Marti & I flew to New York for the big birthday celebration. (The night before we had gone to dinner at Le Suffren with our pal Lucy, who was in town on British Telecom business. I had oysters, in anticipation of our forthcoming visit to the Oyster Bar with our New York friends Jody, Maria & Charles.) On Friday afternoon after cabbing in from Newark, Marti & I dropped by B.B. King's to finalize plans for Monday night's party. We went to dinner that evening with our NYC host Jody at Pam Real Thai Food on W. 49th Street off Ninth Avenue. Jody's family has a century-old brownstone two blocks from Times Square; we had been invited (well, we always invite ourselves) to stay in the parlor floor V.I.P. suite. The Thai food at Pam was delectable -- especially the grilled whole snapper -- but the dessert selection left something to be desired. Jody had the solution: we walked a few blocks north to a place called Fluff, a shrine to the cellophane-wrapped junk food of our childhoods. We were amazed at the variations on filled cupcakes, twinkies & sno-balls available in this post-postmodern bakery-on-acid. Needless to say, we tried everything!

At the Oyster Bar with Charles, Maria & Jody.

Saturday was Oyster Bar lunch & shopping day. After our most recent trip to Barcelona Marti & I had decided to check out the venerable seafood restaurant in Grand Central Station next time we were in Maximum City. We had read in Robert Hughes' compelling city "biography" Barcelona that the two of the best examples of Catalan flat medieval arch construction were to be found here & at the huge reception hall at Ellis Island. The Guastavinos -- a family of tilers & bricklayers who had emigrated to the United States from Catalunya -- had been responsible for this remarkable architecture. (Marti, Maria, Charles & Jody sat patiently while I imparted the aforementioned information.)

A New England boy's dream lunch. The vaunted vaulted ceiling.

Of course we weren't there just for the view. The birthday boy chowed down on delicious raw oysters, creamy oyster stew & a whole lobster. This would not be a low-calorie visit to the Apple.

After lunch the gals hit the stores, as did Charles & I. Actually, all I needed was a trip to the sixth floor at Barneys. I made a beeline for the Armani sport jackets. With Charles' help I found one that had started its retail life at $1100, was now $539 -- which put it at less than €400 at the current exchange rate. I felt like Winona Ryder. After the salesclerk rang it up I grabbed Charles by the arm & said, "Let's get the hell outta this store before they change their minds!" Our work there was done. One store. One jacket. That's what I call shopping like a man.

Marti & I spent a quiet Saturday evening. Emmett -- Jody's squeeze, who has a place near Hilton Head -- returned that afternoon with his manic chihuahua Ricky. The furnace had just failed at the brownstone. We went to dinner at the Westway Diner with Emmett while Jody waited for the repairman. By bedtime (early for us, jet lag had finally caught up) we were warm & cozy again.

Watching the Patriots vs. the Colts at Time Out with Astraea, Nick & Betty.

The next day started out as a lazy Sunday, but by mid-afternoon Marti & I picked up the pace. We were invited by our longtime pals Deb & Ted to drop in for Champagne & caviar at their chill digs on the Upper West Side. It was fun to hang with them again. They gave me a copy of NYC chef Alfred Portale's latest cookbook for my birthday. It's beautiful. From Ted & Deb's place it was a quick walk over to Time Out, one of the dozens of sports bars on Amsterdam Avenue, where Marti & I met my cousins Astraea, Diane, Nick & Nick's lovely wife Betty.

With Nick & Betty. Marti & Diane.

My clever cousins had commandeered a table in the back of the bar, where we had a fine view of the game telecast. I was flattered that Betty & Nick had driven down from Massachusetts just for my birthday; Diane, Nick's sister, had come from West Hartford. They were all crashing at Astraea's apartment uptown. We had a few beers & snacks, watched the Patriots go well ahead, then Marti & I hopped into a cab downtown to Fez. Nick & Betty would be joining us there after the game.

Carla Rhodes with Mick & Keef. Kevn Kinney.

At Fez we hooked up with Emmett & Jody, our pal Jon & his entourage, Adrienne & Kelly. We had drinks & dinner, then a comedienne named Carla Rhodes kicked off the evening's entertainment. Carla didn't have the strongest material I've ever heard, but she slayed us with her hilarious ventriloquist routines featuring Mick Jagger & Keith Richards dummies (Keith had a spleef hanging out of his mouth & was holding a bag of Peruvian Marching Powder). We had come to see Kevn Kinney, a favorite singer-songwriter who performed a long, rambling acoustic set with his bandmate, guitarist Gibb Droll.

With Marti & Jonathan at Fez.

Marti & I were happy to see Jonathan again. He's living the actor's life in Hollywood these days. It was a cool coincidence that he & Kevn had both appeared in a film called Lightning Bug last year. Kevn also did the music for the movie. We schmoozed with him before & after the show.

Adrienne & Kelly. Kevn & Jonathan.

Adrienne & Kelly, childhood pals of Jonathan's, had flown up from Atlanta to hang with him during my birthday weekend. Jon knew we'd hit it off -- we all like the same music & we all love Jonathan. Dining on cuisine Americaine, hanging with great old friends & cool new friends, watching the victorious Patriots, going out to hear groovy live music -- this long weekend was turning out to be even better than I had expected!

Let's go the party at B.B. King's . . .