Every now and then you find a book that causes you to despair as the pages thin and you see the end ahead, wishing it could go on for another hundred pages. Rebecca McClanahan has a way of not just being lyrical and clever in the way she sizes up moments great and small with an insightful turn of phrase, but she also speaks from heart, as if you're her old friend and you've been chatting for hours over a bottle of Chardonnay. McClanahan and her husband, Donald, decide, later in life, to fulfill a dream...live in an apartment in New York City. Who has not had this dream? Once they've moved, they explore all the beauties and miseries of living an urban life: the paper-thin walls, the neighbors who shun a friendly plate of cookies, the walks in Central Park, the theater, the meeting of strangers, and the horrors of the 9/11 attack. These essays are not just connected by place, but by this writer's sharp radar, bringing meaning to the great and small rhythms of New York City...the streets, the hospital, the jury room, and the not-so-quiet apartment that becomes McClanahan's new home. I can't rave enough about this essay collection.