Times Square serendipity ...

Recently, on the way to work in my office in Times Square, I spotted a man dressed like a lot of men, including myself, in what's come to be called "smart casual" (cotton slacks, button-down shirt, no tie). And, like a lot of folks, he had a laptop bag hanging off his shoulder.

But what distinguished this man was the flute he held to his lips and played as he crossed Broadway and headed east on 42nd Street (The Pied Piper of Times Square?).

In an increasingly time-constrained world, perhaps he was squeezing in some practice.

Turn of phrase ...

As I was walking north up Seventh Avenue this morning, I saw a group of four female medical workers, dressed in blue scrubs and apparently headed for work.

What do you call a group of nurses, I wondered. It's a "flock of birds," a "pod of whales" or "a murder of crows."

Suddenly, it hit me: a ward of nurses.