I spent a few days at Weill Cornell Hospital, feeling like the hero of Mark Twain’s  A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. It’s like being at a court. There are so many rules, regulations and conventions that the natives understand and that are a mystery to the visitor. The hospital is vast. I assume it employs thousands of doctors, interns, residents, nurses, aides, dietitians, social workers. There are also the clergy who drop in. I looked up from Ripley Underground, a story about a gentile mass murderer, to look into soft brown eyes gazing at me from the bottom of my bed. I guess he was a monk because he was dressed in a Frier Tuck outfit. After a few pious words, he left. After a procedure, a doctor marched in with an entourage. There were at least ten young men and women, reminding me of knights surrounding King Arthur. Were they interns? Anyway, they watched the doctor examine me as the doctor made pleasant chatter. A dietician spoke to me about a healthful diet and gave me written menu suggestions that included diet coke and margarine.

A few nights later a friend and I attended Jack Kleinsinger’s Highlights in Jazz. As Kleinsinger never tires of reminding the audience, it’s the longest running jazz concert series in NYC. It’s in its 44th year. In the first set a quintet played and sang jazz standards. With the mystery guest, Nicki Parrott on bass, Warren Ache on trumpet and Ted Rosenthal on piano the evening was a treat.