8/27/2004

winnie and i have been chatting about the merits of good email writing and i wanted to share some great parts of an email from tom of fatisflava fame with you guys: The boy is a strange one, and when you walk with him to Delaware Park on a moonlit night (really a marvel of early twentieth century urban planning) he bobs back and forth from your side, in the manner of a ball strung to a paddle. He must think he's behaving with caution, or coyness, or just with the dignity his own superiority to me demands, but I remark to you that he is just tediously tracing a sine curve on my nerves. I couldn't care less if a person wanted to go on dates or boatrides or shoot tiddlywinks, but really he oughtn't to be so damned anxious and inconsistent. I told him so, but with more grace. Soon his pointy nose and crows' feet will mean nothing to me. It's depressing to think this eventuality is no loss for either one of us. He wants to cook me dinner, out of concupiscence or compunction I do not know. PS: This morning I was awakened by a gray squirrel clawing at my windowscreen and working its jaws. He scurried off when sat up in bed, but this is no good omen certainly. I say we institute a bait-and-shoot program, but my Dad says that it's hardly as if the squirrels come in belligerent droves. "They are solitary ninjas," he said (my Dad says these things). I should've replied, "That damned squirrel was trying to orientalize my bedroom." But I did not. My wasted youth.

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