Harvard Club

Hallowed Halls and Dead Animals

I had to attend a presentation my boss was giving this evening at the Harvard Club on West 44th. The lecture was sparsely attended. The space was much larger than I expected but decorated just like I'd expect. The ceilings vaulted up to heights at least three stories high. The wood paneled walls kept close guard on the signature chairs and leather furniture. What surprised me were the dead animals peering down on me - all these African beast looking down on me, the freaky liberal gal with the enviro-cop attitude that all things money are bad.

After the presentation I joined our two hosts and various guest for dinner. Raves about the menu turned out to be both false (pop-overs really weren't all that great - too dry and crunch instead of warm with a flaky outside holding in a buttery soft center) and true (best dang prime rib I've ever had! And it was the size of my head!). And as we talked about a variety of topics from politics to religion to the new controversial addition, I realized I sort of liked this cozy, exclusive feel. Then I looked around and saw only older, wealthy, WASPy, white folks being served by folks with some color in their skin. Ah, I just caught myself in a racial stereotype and I wasn't proud of myself. I recently received an open house invitation from the club and a nice letter talking about how they were making some changes, making efforts to pull new members in. So perhaps I may be too quick to judge; it was a Monday crowd. Maybe, like the new addition, they are willing to change ... and bring in a little modernism and controversy to the neighborhood. White next to black, glass next to red brick. And perhaps one day they'll take down those creepy heads.