Tonight, a swirl of hay, loosened from its twine, rolls around and around under the orange buzz of a streetlight. The street has been cordoned off and bleachers set up along the curb and it’s empty now except for the valet manning the swinging glass door to the Palliser. The-night-before-the-biggest-day-of-the-year and the valet’s already sporting his Stetson and Wranglers. Big old moon, glinty off newly washed Seventh Avenue... (read more)