Being an ex-New Yorker is worse than being an ex-Marine. You’re branded for life. Diction lessons, joining the Southern League, and marrying a girl from Idaho can camouflage the beast and it may lay dormant in the chest cavity for decades like the "Alien" in that scary movie. But , it’s only a matter of time, when, due to stress or elevated blood-alcohol levels, the brash, "know it all" Nooo Yawker worms its way out for all to see. It’s not a pretty sight, but those who witness the event are invariably discreet (they are never New Yorkers), and the … Continue reading Bagels and Gas Masks