A man off to the side made a joke to Viggo that he'd certainly need help getting all the things people had brought for him home again. I asked for a pic. Stood next to him, draped my arm over his shoulder, he held up the watercolors and my daughter snapped a lovely pic.

He is of wiry, muscular build. His hair has grown in. He smiles slowly and is focused on the person he is talking with. His voice is sotto. He doesn't joke or goof-off with others around him but waits until the next person in line comes forward. He doesn’t move around a lot. Sits very attentively. Listens, asks a question perhaps and signs. Plus a pic if they ask. He seemed like the eye of a hurricane after our wild drive into town. Just watching him was calming. My daughter took the Sign Language book up to him at his table. He asked where she'd come from. Maryland. He commented that that was pretty far. He then asked her a question that she couldn't hear correctly or seem to understand. He asked the same question two more times. Each time she didn't get it. Deaf-struck. She just held out the book to him. He signed. She stood next to him, and draped her arm over his shoulder for a pic.

Afterwards we hung out watching the last group of fans (I think from the Musings board) go up for a joint pic. Daz came up to me during this time. She had been there since 3:30pm. We had our pic taken together. Guards shooed us out of Museum. Walked up the Avenue of the Americas to Broadway. She kept turning to me grinning from ear to ear. I grinned back. We walked briskly through Times Square all the way up to 50th Street before we stopped and decided that we were hungry. Ate at Ellen's Stardust Diner with the singing waiters and waitresses. Looked at our photos. Giggled conspicuously. Tried to behave. Would watch photos again and giggle some more.