Carte Blanche

"I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven."Matthew 16:19

"I think you hear me knocking and I think I'm coming in." Denis Leary

Not a New Yorker but a damn fine Irishman.

The celebrated practice of bestowing ceremonial "Key's to the City" also called Freedom of the City dates back to the feudal times of merry wenches and frothy mead. Once a military or legal allowance it is now most often awarded to honorable officials, esteemed visitors, and notable organizations. Yet, while it holds no title distinction, it is simply an honor to carry it....

New York City and Bloomberg seem to dole them out frequently from the likes of The Dali Lama, our treasured hero Captain Sully Sullenberger, and recently to an honest cabbie who returned a bag full of thousands of dollars worth of jewels...

With my anxious fist full of my own real not replica keys to a little piece of that town, I hold more access and authority than I can fully begin to illustrate.

With them I am counting on opening any door and unlocking any heart (including my own) to the expansive future that may or may not be on our way to settling down... just another notch in our freedom belt. The keys to Gotham don't include a red door, white picket fence, loyal dog, or 2.5 rug rats but an entire keychain worth of liberation.  And two floors between me and an Irish pub...

First on my own, now with my man...

And then there were two.

"Can't you hear me knockin on your window
Can't you hear me knockin on your door
Can't you hear me knockin, yeah, down the gas light street, now...
And all, all around your town". The Stones

Ain't it time you opened a strange new door?