N.Y., N.Y., &c.

On Esperanto, a panelist, a neighborhood, a typo, and more

Skies over the Intrepid, Manhattan, N.Y., May 26, 2026 (Jay Nordlinger)

This sign kind of surprised me, posted on a street in New York:

I hadn’t seen or heard a mention of Esperanto in years. It was once a going concern: an international language invented in the 1880s, a language intended to be a “universal second language.” When I was young, Esperanto was derided as an interest of flakes and fools.

The truth is, some very serious, substantial people once advocated Esperanto. The language was a component of internationalism, and also of pacifism—opposition to war.

From time immemorial, the ground had been reddened by war, and people were desperate for ways to stop it, or at least curb it.

I delved into all this when preparing a history of the Nobel Peace Prize (Peace, They Say). The pacifists, internationalists, and “Esperantists” before World War I, and even before World War II, were different from the ones after.

This is a very interesting subject, but I’m fixin’ to move on …

***

It rained for, like, two and a half days straight here in New York. One positive effect: the city was cleaned. One can hardly pay for a cleaning like that.

A shot or two of Central Park, ’mid the rain:

Look at these strange puffy things (spoken like a true botanist, I know):

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I hadn’t noticed this before:

Google tells me that this corner was named “Dorothy Kilgallen Way” in 2025. Born in 1913, this lady was a well-known journalist, especially when it came to Broadway, and the entertainment field more generally. America got to know her through What’s My Line?, on which she was a regular panelist (along with Arlene Francis and Bennett Cerf). Sharp woman.

She lived near the corner of 68th and Park. She died in 1965 at the age of 52 (alcohol and drugs, apparently).

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A clever name, in my opinion:

When Terry and Yaki are scared? “Chicken teriyaki.” When the two of them have a complaint? “Beef teriyaki.”

I’ll stop now.

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Huh.

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An elementary school in Ridgewood, Queens:

May I make a point? Call me crabby—and I might do the same—but I’m sick of this “leaders” business. Schools are making “leaders.” How about good citizens, educated citizens? How about good people, educated people?

Leaders should arise naturally. (I’m getting more harrumphy by the day.)

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More on that school:

All right, but don’t forget Rodgers & Hammerstein, please! (The kings.)

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The Poles have long had a foothold, here in Ridgewood.

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Germans have had a foothold, too. Above one establishment, I see the words “Tischlein deck dich.” That’s the title of a Brothers Grimm tale, which we know in English as “The Wishing-Table.” (Literally, those German words mean, “Table, be set.”)

Ridgewood has been home to a slew of ethnicities. Others include Serbs, Albanians, Italians, Ecuadoreans, Chinese, Koreans, Nepalese, and Coptic Egyptians. There is a Coptic church here.

This is a very New Yorky neighborhood, at least in my eyes.

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Intriguing …

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Interesting, right?

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Pizzeria Panina is an excellent place. There is no “panina” in Italian. Non esiste. There is “panino”—a sandwich. In America, we order “a panini.” But that is plural. In Italy, it’s one panino, two panini.

Anyway, “panina.” I speak with Patrick, who founded the restaurant with Nina, and that led to the portmanteau “Panina,” which sounds Italian. Patrick is indeed Italian, from Verona—but he has an Irish mother (hence that first name).

Warm, hospitable guy. And if you have the chance to have the sticky date cake with vanilla gelato … I know that pizzerias aren’t supposed to be known for desserts, but man alive …

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The Myrtle–Wyckoff Avenues subway station straddles Queens and Brooklyn (Ridgewood and Bushwick). There is a pedestrian mall right outside. On this afternoon, it is a symphony, or cacophony, of ethnicities, with the relevant tongues and foods. Very, very New Yorky, as from a movie.

***

See that picture above this column? I took it yesterday. It is of the Intrepid, in the Hudson River, but mainly of the clouds above the ship. What kind of clouds are they? I’m told they’re “mare’s tails,” known more formally as “cirrus uncinus.”

Nice.

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Maybe do a little language? I saw a piece that referred to a nutty person as a “whack job.” No, that oughtta be “wack job.” (“Wack” goes with “wackiness” or “wacky.”) A “whack job” sounds like a mafia hit. “They sent Vinnie to do a whack job, but he’s a wack job, so he screwed it up.”

I saw another piece that referred to an “alternate reality” or “alternate universe”—I forget which. In either case, “alternative” is the word you want: “alternative reality,” “alternative universe.” The ladies meet at the club on alternate Thursdays.

***

In his newsletter two days ago, Kevin D. Williamson was writing about errors in books and articles, including typos.

… I have made some bad ones in my time. (And a few amusing ones: I recently wrote to a friend that I had spent part of a day “organizing my wenches.” Wrenches!)

Underneath the article, a commenter wrote,

Oh dear. I hope Jay wasn’t the recipient. That would be like sending a bottle of MD 20/20 to Aubert de Villaine.

I looked up “MD 20/20” and “Aubert de Villaine.” The former is “a discount flavored fortified wine”; the latter is “a legendary Burgundian winemaker.”

Kevin replied,

It was a text to Jay! Honest to God.

I replied,

Ever thoughtful, Kevin was using language I could understand.

Wrenches, I don’t really know anything about.

I do know this: I am grateful for your subscriptions, and I’m glad you are reading, and I’ll talk to you soon. Thank you.