My god, this book makes me want to put my head through a plate glass window... The ultimate in effete smugness, it is infused with passages such as this at every turn: “It is a bright, sunny Sunday afternoon and I have roused myself from my apartment’s cozy comfort to take my artist’s date. I leave the Upper West Side and travel to Murray Hill. My destination is a bookstore, The Complete Traveller.” Gag! It's amazing that this book appeals to anyone living anyplace but the upper west side of Manhattan. Sorry, but I regret the decision I made to purchase this book. But, my expenditure will be not wasted if it saves others from making the same mistake as I have... Don't buy this book.