Political families beget dynasties. Take Gov. Mario Cuomo’s kid, Gov. Andrew. Add a pile of Roosevelts, wall-to-wall Kennedys, more Bushes than they have in Cypress. Clintons might gear Chelsea for office. We had multiple Daleys in Chicago, assorted Tafts from Ohio, Jerry Brown and daddy Pat both grabbed California governorships. Plus leave us not overlook those Rockefellers.
Comes now Donald Trump’s son. Drums are beating that Donald Jr. would like to run for mayor. Of where? Where else?
We are not talking some parched sod in Iowa, where the corn is as high as a Democrat’s eye. Kiddies, mother is saying friends are saying he is saying he’d like to run for mayor of New York City.
Dolan out honors
In 1976, Tim Michael Dolan was ordained a priest. June 19 marks more than four decades since His Eminence Timothy Cardinal Dolan’s ordination.
A small celebration invited Brooklyn’s former Chief Judge Carol Amon, who said: “For years, I give money to the church, go to Mass every week, lector on Sundays and no invitation to anything — much less dinner with the cardinal! And arranged by a non-Catholic friend. It reminded me of when, as a prosecutor with trips to Rome on mob cases, the only one at the Justice Department with clout to arrange an audience with the pope was a Jewish friend named Murray Stein!”
On NBA draft lottery day, former NHL Ranger Ron Duguay and ad man David Allen dined at MSG’s Delmonico’s. Duguay was swarmed by ladies. The ad man, not . . . Gayle King was at ‘21’ . . . Howard Schultz, Starbucks former chairman, was in line at Starbucks, 61st and First . . . Canaletto on East 60th, open Sundays, so mobbed you couldn’t get a table . . . Where Alan Alda had dinner, I don’t know. I know he crossed 67th and B’way as a cyclist going the wrong way nearly clipped him. Passerby: “Damn kamikaze biker.” Alda: “Naah. Just a Domino’s 30-minute pizza guy.”
This tradition was a blessing
A lady named Marie Marchesani just forwarded my 50-year-old Kate Smith interview. I forgot where it was printed and no idea why she’s kept this — but — whatever the Yankees think, say or do, I love the team. I don’t mix in. I’ll just reprint this part:
“Armistice Day 1938 I introduced Irving Berlin’s ‘God Bless America.’ Me, I’m unashamedly patriotic, and we were on the brink of war. But that kind of sentiment wouldn’t go today. Things have changed radically. Young people seem embarrassed by, if not actually hostile to, that kind of emotion.
“You’ve got to move with the times. I know if you want to work before the public, you have to go with the trends. This is my fifth generation. I’ve been around since ’27. On radio since 1931.”
God bless America and Kate Smith.
I have a terrace. Our rainy weather made a colony of ants decide inside’s nicer. Drier. Uninvited, a whole group — cousins, uncles, ants — paraded indoors. Five a.m. barking woke me. Frantic, I searched everywhere — behind doors, inside closets, under beds, in unused corners. Juicy, my 3 ½ pound Yorkie, age 17, was nowhere. Still yelping.
Somehow, pioneering unfamiliar territory through a loosened gate, she’d gotten stuck on the sticky pad used to trap the uninvited ants.
Oy, please, only in New York, kids, only in New York.
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