Strolling on the beach at Coney Island recently, I stumbled over a glowing lamp, and guess who appeared? Yep, a Brooklyn genie.
“Yo, watch where you’re walking, pal!” the genie grumbled. “What are you doing on the beach anyway? It’s winter!”
“But it’s 60 degrees!” I replied.
“Good point,” said the genie. “For freeing me from that lamp, I grant you three wishes for 2016.”
“Just three — are you kidding?” I replied. “How about six?”
“Hey, don’t get greedy. OK, six. But one more word, and you get zilch.”
So I gave him my wishes: