Yesterday was just your basic work day. Nothing worth reporting.

Today was my annual outing with Marjorie to the U.S. Open. We met at 10 at Penn Station knowing it would rain—however, this is the first year there is a retractable roof on center court as Arthur Ashe.

We made the usual rounds—first stop American Express to get our promotional earpieces with a radio that only broadcasts the tennis play by play. It’s great. Then we went to the Nike booth and got t-shirts. Then we went to the Tennis Association’s booth and got more t-shirts and baseball caps. Gotta get a cap every year. Got a white one with a big “16” over the brim—my birthday—it works.

Then, last but not least, we went to the Ralph Lauren Polo store and got still more t-shirts and a fabulous shopping bag that’s really a great duffel.

We were inside by 11:30 and got to see the very first day match played under the new roof. It wasn’t raining, yet. Went to lunch at our usual place, but the management had changed and so had the menu. Marjorie was still hungry and filled up with a hot dog. Then we got to see the Andy Murray match—can’t remember with who. But it finally rained. It rained so hard the place sounded like a giant rain stick. The sound of the rain on the roof coupled with the ambient noise of the crowd, the whoosh of the air vents and the cheers at the end of each point were deafening. After the match was over, Murray commented that the noise was so loud you couldn’t hear the ball being hit. Big handicap.

I had to be back in the city and at writing group by 7:00 and that wasn’t a problem. Much better than the last time. I’d managed to get my piece flowing—just need more. I’m writing memory flashes. Central Park Zoo feeding the seals when mom was pregnant with Wayne. Bob-Ed bungalows and learning to swim from my dad. Sitting on Grandma Greenwald’s stoop on Sundays in the Bronx. Going to TV shows with my mom. All of this in the early 1950’s, so there’s great color as far as fashion, entertainment and family go.

Long day. Time for bed.