What a surprise to get a message from my friend Flossie who used to teach with me years ago. I taught science and she Engish but so much more than just that. I don't know why we lost touch with each other, though it was easily done in those benighted, pre-social media days. I remember her blithe spirit, her readiness to be serious and amusing at the same time, her wealth of stories, her red hair and brightly colored flowing clothes.
She wrote: I've been in Huntsville, Alabama, for the last ten years managing a bookstore which ultimately failed (amost inevitably) as did my relationship with the co-owner of my former dog, and I'm back up in here in Boston working retail in a specialty paper store, with a lot of women and one young man. Somebody remarked that I looked 'granny-ish' to him but I soon quashed that way of talking.
The competition for rentals is fierce here, as you probably wouldn't know being a complacent homeowner, and I've had to take a place with a couple studying at MIT and a guy who's a fanatic cyclist. Sorry about that crack, but really: is it true that you haven't relocated even once since we taught together. Where is that spirit of adventure you talked so much about when we lunched together in the dining hall?
I came across your name through a connection with Google +. It would have been so much simpler if you'd been on Facebook but probably some inner snootiness keeps you off. Anyway what is this you've been writing for the last year and a half? A mishmash of autobiography and philosophy and something like religion, it seems to me. Can you elucidate?
I've been reading Kierkegaard and when I'm tired of fear and trembling, I relax with detective Homer Kelly as per the great Jane Langton. She makes me feel again how special this region is.
But not as genial as Huntsville where people took positive pleasure in good manners. Everyone has a destination and it intent to getting to it. Ah well.
I know you're a busy guy, but do reply--in writing, please. You know how I hate phones and how much I like keyboarding. Got to go now since I want to catch the concert on the Esplanade.
She wrote: I've been in Huntsville, Alabama, for the last ten years managing a bookstore which ultimately failed (amost inevitably) as did my relationship with the co-owner of my former dog, and I'm back up in here in Boston working retail in a specialty paper store, with a lot of women and one young man. Somebody remarked that I looked 'granny-ish' to him but I soon quashed that way of talking.
The competition for rentals is fierce here, as you probably wouldn't know being a complacent homeowner, and I've had to take a place with a couple studying at MIT and a guy who's a fanatic cyclist. Sorry about that crack, but really: is it true that you haven't relocated even once since we taught together. Where is that spirit of adventure you talked so much about when we lunched together in the dining hall?
I came across your name through a connection with Google +. It would have been so much simpler if you'd been on Facebook but probably some inner snootiness keeps you off. Anyway what is this you've been writing for the last year and a half? A mishmash of autobiography and philosophy and something like religion, it seems to me. Can you elucidate?
I've been reading Kierkegaard and when I'm tired of fear and trembling, I relax with detective Homer Kelly as per the great Jane Langton. She makes me feel again how special this region is.
But not as genial as Huntsville where people took positive pleasure in good manners. Everyone has a destination and it intent to getting to it. Ah well.
I know you're a busy guy, but do reply--in writing, please. You know how I hate phones and how much I like keyboarding. Got to go now since I want to catch the concert on the Esplanade.
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