Montage of a dream deferred (but now realized)

Yesterday I flew to NYC where I’m presenting an Apulian tasting at a New York Wine Media Guild luncheon today. Last night, my buddy Greg Wawro and I headed to Harlem after dinner to celebrate the election and drink it all in…

Outside the Apollo theater people gathered and cheered. Everyone was high-fiving and hugging and cheering. It was pretty awesome.

This dude performed a dance with the flag at 7th Ave. and 127th St.

We watched Obama’s acceptance speech on the big screen at Adam Clayton Powell Plaza.

Greg and I partied with revelers at the Seville Lounge on 7th Ave.

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

— Langston Hughes

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