Marty informs us of some bad news about Fedora Dorato, the former owner of her eponymous bar and restaurant in the Village. Sadly, but perhaps not surprisingly, Fedora has passed on, about a year after closing her classic joint.
I didn’t know Fedora, but I will miss her. I know that makes no sense at all, but it is true.
In her absence, we proceed. New York is dead; long live New York.