Another moment that left me thinking that we would
ultimately live in New York City was in the summer of 1986. Dana had been born the
previous fall and my parents had come to Gainesville to take care of her while
we took a much-needed summer vacation.
We hadn’t been back to New York City since the World Series
visit and this was our first time to really explore the city as a couple. I loved it. I was working for SantaFe HealthCare and had
just a few days for vacation after using most of my days for maternity leave;
Larry had a gazillion days as the Sports Director for WRUF and was heading to Chicago
after our NYC vacation to spend time with his brother Phil and his wife Paula.
This was our first trip after becoming parents and we were
determined to make the most of the visit. We stayed at the St. Moritz, a hotel
on Central Park South – a fabulous location (it eventually became a Trump
property and today is a Ritz Carlton), but our room might have been the tiniest
we ever stayed in. It literally held a queen sized bed and a dresser, and you
had to turn sideways to move between the furniture. We, however, thought we had
won the lottery even though we didn’t have a view of Central Park.
There were so many firsts. Our first Broadway show. Our
first special dinner (looking back, of course, it wasn’t). Our first visit to the
iconic, Mai Tai-originated Trader Vic’s – which at that time was in the
basement of the world-famous Plaza Hotel.
Our first Broadway show together was “Sweet Charity” (Larry
had seen Chorus Line before he met me) starring Debbie Allen, who at the time was
best known for her work as an actress and choreographer on the movie and
television show “Fame.” Bebe Neuwirth, who was just emerging on television as
Lillith in Cheers, starred as Charity’s fellow dancer Nickie.
I had visions of what Broadway shows would be like and we
dressed to the nines – I had this sexy, sequin-laced black dress – and Larry wore
his best suit. We were disappointed though, because, even though it was an
evening performance, Broadway was already starting to see the dressed-down
audience that rules today.
Our special dinner
was at Mama Leone’s – more of an Italian tourist trap than we realized at the
time – and we would swear there were members of the Mafia a couple of tables
over. The portions of Italian American entrees were huge – much more than we
could eat, but the dark, smoky, exotic restaurant more than met our culinary
expectations at that time. We’d learn later what real NYC Italian food meant.
One of the most memorable parts of the trip, though, was our
visit to Trader Vic’s, this amazing TIki bar located in the basement of the Plaza
Hotel. Trader Vic’s had moved to the
Plaza in 1965, seven years after opening at the Savoy-Plaza Hotel.
It was known
for its umbrella-laced tropical drinks and its Pu Pu platters – and was a
favorite of Larry’s dad and step-mom. We met them there – sharing exotic drinks
and a platter – it was so cool. Three years later, a developer by the
name of Donald Trump closed Trader Vic’s and added an Oriental
restaurant/sports club where people running through Central Park could stop by.
Yeah - right.
The end of the story is among the most interesting travel days of my life. Typical
thunderstorms hit New York City the afternoon we were flying out – I was
heading to Gainesville, Larry to Chicago. My flight was canceled; Larry’s was
still scheduled and United wouldn’t let him move his flight to the next morning.
Larry literally gave me every dollar he had in his pocket before heading to the
gate for his flight.
