As the rockets’ red glare faded over New York Harbor and the city awaited the auspicious date of 7/7/07, residents had reason to feel lucky. Bombs bursting in air were a somewhat ominous reminder of the bungled London terror attacks, and, in the patriotic spirit of things, no one seemed to mind waiting as suspicious packages along the West Side Highway, on Liberty Island, and at JFK airport were examined. (The last threat turned out to be a big box of cologne.) Senator Hillary Clinton made good on threats to unleash husband Bill to march with baton twirlers in Iowa, but Barack Obama rained on her parade by raising $32 million to her $27 million in the second quarter of the year.
Mayor Bloomberg moved his office to temporary summer digs in Brooklyn. President Bush gave Scooter Libby his own personal Independence Day, leaving Judith Miller the only person who’ll do time in the Valerie Plame case. Governor Spitzer wanted to know why Joseph Bruno needed a taxpayer-funded helicopter to attend a Manhattan dinner with Rudy Giuliani; Bruno countered that Spitzer was picking on him, threatening to “knock me down, knock me out.” America reclaimed the Nathan’s hot-dog-eating championship, as Joey Chestnut downed 66 franks in twelve minutes. Some new iPhone owners felt like weenies when they couldn’t get their $600 gadgets activated.
Cops busted a Staten Island man who throttled a peacock he’d mistaken for a vampire. The Nets re-upped with offensive leader Vince Carter. Yankees scoring leader A-Rod pulled a hamstring. (His wife, C-Rod, bagged a few PR points of her own by sporting a fuck you T-shirt at the stadium.) Mike and the Mad Dog sparked rumors of Don Imus’s possible return to talk radio on WFAN. A snoozy violinist who’d lost his $100,000 violin at the Clark Street 2/3 stop received a call to pick it up at the Coney Island/Stillwell Avenue station. And Beverly Sills, the Brooklyn-born soprano who gave divas a good name, died at age 78. —Mark Adams