Fine: I admit defeat. When I went to take one last photo of this year's sad excuse for Griswold Alley, my camera abruptly decided that its rechargeable battery was now irrevocably dead. I can't say I blame it, really: it probably wanted to take yet another interchangeable photo of the lower portion of my block about as much as you, dear readers, wanted to look at one.
C'est la vie, then. It is often true in life that every grand success must have one small strand of misfire somewhere in its midst. It keeps us restless, and teaches us a lesson. In this case, I have learned that should I do a daily December series again next year - and this one has been such a success and so much fun that I think I likely will - that I will need to pick something else for my "easy Friday posts." Griswold Alley should have been a shoo-in; in every year that I've lived here before this one, it has been everything I have fruitlessly puffed it up to be this year. Next time around, maybe I'll do the email roundups on Friday to give myself a consistent light day and give the Alley the boot.
Ah well, whattaya gonna do? Damn near everything else about this series went swimmingly. In lieu of one last photograph of next-to-nothing, I suggest we all take one last, fond look back at the Bronx. That, dear readers, is how it's done when taste is of no concern.