Call me Ishmael. Not so long ago I found myself back in New York, walking the windy spring streets around Times Square, trying to find a place I couldn't get out of my mind ever since I'd first found it there a couple years back. Perhaps it was too formidable a task, for the place was not so much a physical locale, nor a building, but it was more of a feeling. The doorway to it had been inside the Times Square Brewery, and though the Brewery was still there, the doorway to the feeling was gone, and search as...