New York Interlude: leaving the city

I’m on my way home to Madison today. I have a morning in the city. Did I miss anything? Should I have gone somewhere, done something differently?

Yes, definitely. Why is it that over the years I have shifted in my thinking so that these days, more often than not I am convinced that each day could have been done with greater panache, savvy, strength, cleverness? Only when I was much younger (twenties, thirties) did I believe that my days were forgivable lessons rather than correctable mistakes.

So on a practical note: what does one do with a last morning in NY?

The obvious is chasing down the cursed purse. Perhaps I should strive for the less obvious.