Look to the Cookie!

New York smells like pot.

There. I've said it.

Whether in Times Square, strolling along 45th St, down near Madison Square Garden, or over at Hudson Yards, I smelled the "wacky tobaccy" a lot.

I almost longed for a whiff of cigarette by comparison.

I'm back from 24 whirlwind hours in Manhattan where Paul Silvarfarb and I walked probably 60 blocks, grabbed the most expensive drink I've ever had at a rooftop bar (I haven't exactly lived), and sat at a computer in the basement of our hotel at 11:30 at night trying to figure out how to print the conference speech.

Oh, and we got Krispy Kreme doughnuts and good burgers. I sent pictures of the Times Square Krispy Kreme to Sean.

We strolled B&H (dangerous to let the two of us go in an electronics store like that) and the NHL store (too pricey).

We were two wild and crazy guys (eye roll).

It was a fun night but I was in pain from the walking. Such is life.

I also got very little sleep for some reason.

The conference went off without a hitch today as the Hunt Scanlon team did a remarkable job of setup, breakdown, pressing the flesh, and presenting another great show.

(Side note to Chris Hunt, who reads the blog and is no doubt anticipating what I'm going to write: I have nothing bad to say. Great experience again! The behind-the-scenes work that everyone puts in on conference day is remarkable.)

As usual, I try to avoid mistakes (impossible) and otherwise facilitate as I stay out of the way.

We were basically all on-site by roughly 6:45 a.m. (some earlier) and I walked out around 5:20 p.m.

I was back in my car at 7:00 and home by 8:00.

But I had made up my mind that Sean needed a cookie. 

Wait, no. Not a cookie.

The cookie.

The black and white cookie. Nobody could explain it better than "Seinfeld."

JERRY: Uhm, The thing about eating the Black and White cookie, Elaine, is you want to get some black and some white in each bite. Nothing mixes better than vanilla and chocolate And yet somehow racial harmony eludes us. If people would only look to the cookie all our problems would be solved.

ELAINE: Your views on race relations are fascinating. You really should do an op-ed piece for the Times.

JERRY: Um, um, Look to the cookie Elaine. Look to the cookie.

Oh you can get black and white cookies in a lot of places. There are packaged versions that you can get in a convenience or grocery store. But any New Yorker knows that a true black and white cookie -- perhaps the original black and white cookie -- can be found at Zaro's in Grand Central Terminal.

I knew my son -- likely annoyed over the Krispy Kreme pictures -- would forgive all transgressions if I looked to the cookie.

So, yes, I walked in around 8 p.m. The cat popped up as I came up the stairs. Sean, headset on, talking to his friends, greeted me.

I gave it a moment. Then, I held the cookie aloft.

"Is that the real thing?"

He rarely gets this worked up; this giddy. He was actually electric in the moment.

"I haven't had one in some time!"

To be honest, I expected a smile. An "Oooohhhh." Polite and happy.

But this was more than that. It was transcendental.

It actually took me aback with a touch of emotion.

Dad gets one right once in a while.

He did then admit he was a touch jealous about the Krispy Kreme photos -- a reminder that we need to spend a day in the city. 

Maybe we can get a contact high. It won't be difficult.