I Can Die Happy Now

I met Soterios Johnson last night.

Anyone who listens to WNYC in the morning knows how big that is. (For those of you who don't, he hosts the morning news.) He doesn't sound anything like what he sounds like on the radio. I told him I sometimes cursed him by name when I left my apartment in the morning to find that it was raining, instead of lightly misting as he had reported a few minutes earlier. He gets that a lot, apparently.

I spoke to him for a good twenty minutes, and he turns out to be very nice. Which, thank goodness. There's nothing worse than meeting a celebrity -- even a minor, geeky, New-York-only celebrity -- and finding out he's an jerk.

(I was at dinner last night at a new Greek restaurant on the Upper East Side, 60th between Park and Lex. It's called Retsina, and if you like Greek food at all, you should go. I can't tell you how expensive it is, because it was one of those dinners in honor of someone where someone rich and generous picked up the tab, but I'd say it's probably moderately expensive.

Also, I don't plan on dying any time soon, kenna hurra.)