We spent Halloween week in New York and it was T-Bone’s third trip there this year. If I never have to fly with a cranky 20 month old kid again it’ll be too soon, but once we were there we had some great moments. Grandma took us to the Museum of Natural History and T thought the whale hanging from the ceiling was the coolest airplane he’d ever seen.
I was devastated that we had to leave our Tim Burton-esque ‘hood and forego our usual spooky festivities, but I was glad to be able to smell autumn in Central Park and see the fiery foliage along the Palisades Parkway as we drove up to Woodstock to spend the holiday with my dear friend, Julie, and her beautiful family.
Julie and I have known each other since we stalked the Beastie Boys together in junior high and she has always had a little bit of fairy dust in her pockets at all times. It’s hard to explain. You just get the feeling that where Julie lives, there’s bound to be a rabbit hole out back that will drop you right into some magical alternate universe. She just sold her first children’s book and I was privileged enough to see an early version. It’s going to be massive.
When T and I got in the car to drive to Woodstock, I was positively vibrating with anxiety. Family drama, final edits, travel with a jet lagged Wild Thing baby…I felt about ready to fold. We left Julie’s house the next day and I was set right again. T ate caramel apples and partied with a marauding crew of kids in the afternoon and then we trick-or-treated in the rain, which he thought was the most hilarious thing ever.
T never did wear his lion costume. He stayed in his skeleton jammies all day. He seemed so happy that I didn’t want to screw it up.
Scott had to stay behind to play a show at the Hammerstein Ballroom. He had his own Halloween fun. He said the crowd was awesome and he’s always glad when he gets to wear his big stuffed insect costume.
The guys also played two nights of Letterman while we were there. And, Oh, the irony…. just before I went to sit in the Letterman green room, my fantastically courageous and brilliant friend Nell Scovell published this article in Vanity Fair about the unfriendly attitude toward women writers in late-night-tv and particularly the hostile work environment at (you guessed it) good ol’ Dave’s. It’s a fair and witty and solution-oriented article and I’m just so proud of that gal I could cry.