At the Algonquin

A few years ago Becky and I travelled to New York city for our anniversary. There was romance, Broadway, great dinners and, of course, a stay at the Algonquin hotel. In case you don't know, the Algonquin is certainly the most famous "literary" hotel in New York. It was here--in the famed Oak Lounge--that the round table met to discuss literature and the latest literary trends.

I had always dreamed of sitting in the same chair as Harold Ross (editor of the New Yorker) or Dorothy Parker or James Thurber. The list of luminarious is awesome.

Anyway, we stayed there--right under the big top--and I read my fair share of books, imagining what it would be like to get a call from the editor of the New Yorker telling me that my latest story had been accepted for publication. The dream is still alive--though I rarely submit anything to the New Yorker anymore.

I did, however, receive one very nice handwritten rejection from Roger Angell (sports editor of the New Yorker, now retired) probably in 1989 or so, telling me that he did enjoy my humorous piece "Football Chaplain", and that he wanted to see more of my work. That little note inspired me for years and I still have it somewhere among the stacks of rejection slips I've kept on file.

Some day I hope to go back to the Algonquin and actually sit in the Oak Lounge. It was closed for repairs when I was there on our anniversary and Becky and I had to sip drinks in the greasy spoon restaurant down the block. So much for literary romance.