Waiting for the Bard

There are certain rites of passage when you grow up in Manhattan: your first solo subway ride, Central Park becoming your hang out, realizing you’re oblivious to places like the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Empire State Building and the flowerbeds that line the Park Avenue malls because you’ve seen them all your life, and they have become invisible. I have just added another social custom to my son’s repertoire: waiting on line for tickets to Shakespeare in the Park. Read more

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