it appears as if quite a few people who attend the US Open are on vacation. or maybe that's how they live all the time, like they're on vacation (kind of like me).in any case, one of the Flushing Meadows activities (besides walking up to, say, Row L, often with hot dogs and/or beer or champagne in a plastic flute in hand, before looking up to see if you're even in the right section, then looking confused, while remaining standing, even if the match if going on, in order to block the view of those seated higher than the spot where you realize you don't know where the hell you're going) on everyone's to-do list (at least those of us in the Upper Promenade) is to enlist one of the party to walk down a few steps while the other party remains seated (or possibly encroaching into the aisle) with camera at the ready. then the party of the first part poses like they're at the lip of the Grand Canyon (which, actually, is a pretty good simile for the concrete bowl which is Arthur Ashe Stadium).
voila!
and far be it from me to swim upstream, fight the power (fight the power) or go against the consensus.
so here's the sum total of my vacation photos from this evening's Men's Final (won, for the fifth year in a row, by Roger Federer).
yep. like Tom Brady and Billy Wagner, I'm out for the season.
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