Last night, I was writing to a buddy about how tired I was from my autumn biz-travel schedule. I think I was attempting to elicit sympathy for going to Milan, Las Vegas and San Diego over the course of 6 weeks. “Boy, you think you’ve got it tough. . .”
In that spirit, I won’t even try to express any sort of discomfort over tonight’s gala in NYC. It’s a dinner/dance benefit event for Just One Break, an employment service for people with disabilities. Pfizer’s outgoing R&D chief is one of the honorees, and one of my pals at that company kindly invited me and my wife. (Thanks, Mak!)
I’m suspicious that this is just a plot by my (day job) readership to find out exactly what sorta woman would consent to spend the rest of her life married to me, so I’m thinking of asking Amy to wear a burka to the event.
I, meanwhile, am wrestling with the concept of “black tie optional.” I don’t think that covers leather chaps and a giant sombrero, so it looks like I’ll have to stop off at the dry cleaner and ransom my nice black suit.