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To Yale and Back Again

An altogether successful foray was made last night into the neighboring sovereign state of Connecticut, wherein resides a middle-aged (or perhaps even old, by our national standards) university which is named Yale, after the institution’s early benefactor. Said place of higher learning is also home to the burgeoning second chapter of the greatest society ever to have graced the University and Royal Burgh of St Andrews. It was in such a capacity that I was invited along to a moderately informal and very cheerful evening.

A South African brandishing his smoking-pipe.

The evening started with supper for six at Mory’s, a private dining club of some renown. Upon the arrival, one half-hour late, of Mr. Click (the day was also the twenty-second anniversary of his birth) our waitress very kindly informed us which portions of the menu we dare not attempt. New England clam chowder was my candidate for appetizer, and I settled upon a breast of chicken cordon bleu as an entrée, which was served, much to my satisfaction, with a side of delectable French fries (or ‘chips’, ‘frites’, ‘Freedom fries’, ‘shoestring potatoes’, or what have you).

The inebriated president of the Yale chapter.

Alas, the usual HQ with its beautiful Ionic columns and hardwood floors directly across from Timothy Dwight College is under renovation, but temporary accomodation was found only a few doors down, and it was there that we retired to after finishing our hearty meal at Mory’s, for an evening of ale and poker.

The choir stalls, previously mentioned, have been removed to the temporary location.

After we sufficiantly played our hand in cards, we ventured back outdoors into the frigid New England night to a bar called Rudy’s, which I dare say has the best fries in all New England (though they style them ‘frites’ at Rudy’s). We also chanced upon some Yale ladyfolk known to the Eli chapter, and consumed our fries at a table by the window which, alas, gave us not all that much protection from the cold.

And so, having enjoyed my evening in New Haven, I returned home via locomotive this morning, returning only just before predicted 13-24 inches of snow commenced to fall. Pop took the beast out for a walk before it got too deep, and I snapped this last photo upon their return.

Published at 2:41 pm on Saturday 22 January 2005. Categories: Journal New York People.
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