A little boy is going to come to New York some day, disappear, then eventually return to his home as a middle-aged man. When his mother says, "Where were you all this time?" he will tell her: "In the line at the Radio City Music Hall." He may even introduce her to the girl he met near the end of the queue, courted between Fifth Avenue and Rockefeller Plaza, and married at Sixth and 50th.
Sometimes three-quarters of a mile long, forming as early as 6:30 a.m., doubling and redoubling upon itself through a maze of sawhorses set up by...
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