On the occasion of my 50th birthday a couple years ago, Danny and I went to New York, got ourselves all dressed up and met friends at the Odeon for dinner. After cocktails then wine with dinner and after dinner drinks and the subway ride back uptown in the wee hours of the morning, I stumbled a little on the stairs as we were coming up out of the subway station. Danny took my hand. We emerged to streets dampened by a sudden brief shower. Still holding hands we began to trot toward our hotel two or three blocks away. In my memory we looked for all the world like Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly, hands clasped, outer arms up and out for balance. We hardly touched the ground, toes gracefully pointed at every step.