The night I arrived in New York, my dad and his sisters had gone through a bottle and a half of wine and still hadn’t thought of anything to say about Grandma at her 90th birthday party the next day. My aunts had elected Dad to give the speech and they had agreed to help write it. “But to be honest,” one of them said, “I can’t think of anything very complimentary.” More…
Posted on Tuesday, January 15th, 2008 at 10:15 pm
Filed under Writing, Xtra.
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Filed under Writing, Xtra.
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