Juxtaposition. It's the wedding party we passed in the rain enroute to our own anniversary dinner, on a Friday, the 13th, 9 months later. It's the guy on my train in camouflage and combat boots, pulling his Louis Vuitton luggage from the overhead compartment. And the businessman travelling down Fifth Avenue, past the silk and lacy and racy Victoria's Secret windows, on his Segway, briefcase and all.

And while the sprout was sampling his/her first helping of short ribs, the guy sitting next to us had a full edition of the New York Times, in his back pockets, for his entire meal. Juxtapose that, next to elegant husband-man and his Bandol, across from white linen in candlelight.

Happy anniversary!