Allow me, for one, to sing Con Edison’s praises

As I write this post, I am listening to the sounds of hammering, chainsawing and the racket caused by cutting into the street.

It is music to my ears.

I conduct my real estate business from my home office, sitting at desk by the window that is just above the heads of passersby.  I happen to love this arrangement because I feel part of the world while being apart, enjoying the changes in the weather and the sight of tulips I helped plant in the tree boxes outside my apartment on Manhattan’s Upper West Side.

While working the other day,