Thursday, November 16, 2006


On my way to work, I stopped to pick up a green tea latte at a shop. There were three people ahead of me. Three women. Friends. They were discussing someone named Mitch.

1ST WOMAN: Oh, he's so much fun! I love him!
2ND WOMAN: YEAH! I do, too.
3RD WOMAN: He's wonderful! He's gay, you know.
1ST WOMAN: Gay? He's not gay. You think he's gay?
3RD WOMAN: Yeah. I do. In fact, I know it.
2ND WOMAN: He's not gay! He's just ... peppy.

As I was walking to the office, I saw a man--a rather disheveled man--coming toward me. He was singing. Loudly. Joyfully. These are some of the words: AMERICA IS GREAT! NEW YORK IS THE BEST PLACE! Actually they were the only words.

He sang these, er, lyrics three more times before he reached me. Then, still singing, he leaned over me and pretended to be biting my left shoulder. He incorporated this gnawing at me into the song, which now went: AMERICA IS GREAT! NEW YORK IS THE BEST PLACE! NYAH, NYAH, NYUM!

As I reached the front door, my cell phone rang. It was Harry. I love hearing from Harry. He's wonderful.

He's friend.

Just a sample morning in the world of Alice.

An author doesn't necessarily understand the meaning of his own story better than anyone else.

--Alice in Wonderland