The lions still impress me each time I visit the New York Public Library. For some odd reason they make me remember the giant Paul Bunyan statue in northern Minnesota when I was a child. You could sit on the statue and it would know your name and talk to you. This appearent miracle was actually a result of my folks paying a buck or two and spilling some life facts about me to the people ‘behind the curtain’.
The Lions have never greeted me personally using my middle name. But I’m still holding out hope.