North and Norther and Who Cares?
I returned to New York after a trip Down East only to learn my aunt died and I now have to put snow tires on the old Town Car and drive to northern Ontario. Down East I saw a whale in the Passamaquoddy Bay and visited FDR's summer home on Campobello Island. My aunt died in Orillia, Ontario, a town made vivid by Stephen Leacock in "Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town." After Orillia I drive norther to a nursing home in Sudbury to see my mother. Years ago in another life I had a friend who was something of a motor mouth and she would deliver long monologues on her troubles and intersperse these monologues with a pet phrase she doubtless heard in some movie: "Who cares? Nobody cares." I'll be back in New York God willing before Richard Morris' memorial November 30 at the Small Press Center.
posted by Michael Andre at
1:58 AM
1 Comments:
I like the way people talk.
Once in a deli on 75th and Amsterdam it was crowded and a Finnish friend of ours didn't know whether to come in or out as she didn't know the protocol having never seen so many folks crammed into such a tiny space.
Finally an elderly Jewish woman waved her hand before her to show that she was waiting for my friend to move, and said to my friend, "Some time today?"
It was her first day in America, and quite an introduction to New York City.
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