The place was a madhuis! (Ahem.)
The line, regardless of whether you wanted to purchase same-day or advance tickets, was out the building, down 70th St., around the corner up to 5th Ave., and around the corner and halfway down the block on 71st. The Israeli couple behind me in line were having an adorable conversation that began with a review of the plot of the Tracy Chevalier novel that takes its name from one of the Vermeers on display and then wound its way around to a discussion of whether Frick is a strange name for a museum and — doesn't that mean something bad in English? —Yes, but I think it's the name of the founder of the museum all the same.
Normally the length of the wait would have been a source of irritation, but for head-clearing purposes, there's almost nothing better than some fresh air and drizzly-fogggy-San Francisco-style weather.
The Rembrandts and the Vermeers didn't hurt too much, either.
Back to the book!