I did have to drive for a hundred years in order to get home last night, but everything worked out well enough, even though I was forced into playing horrible radio music to keep myself awake. There is nothing like singing along with Foreigner's "Hot-Blooded" on the black back roads of Skowhegan, Maine. It is equivalent to swallowing a pint of day-old coffee grounds and then chewing up the paper filter, but it keeps you from plowing into trees and running over people's cats.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Here's an update for all of you 2009 Frost Place Conference participants: Charlotte Gordon is just as smart, charming, and full of vim as you remember (but what is "vim"?). Also, she has a sixth-grade boy in her house, which made my stay very homey. With 2 minutes to spare before schooltime, I found his coat, his book, and his pencil box, all of which were invisibly and conveniently located next to his feet. I was glad that my special training in this field functioned as a handy hostess gift.
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4 comments:
this is my favorite blog.
You are so so funny. Foreigner is the worst. And what an amazing analogy.
I will be forever grateful to you for finding B's objects where they were located, as you said, right next to his ridiculous feet. I want to visit again soon.
I wonder what vim is exactly --
Vim...vitality/energy....
I like to imagine that "vim" is more corporeal. Maybe it's cheap, knockoff "vin ordinaire" made in Liverpool. Or perhaps it's a vitamin supplement sold in the classified sections of Little Lulu comic books, alongside X-ray specs and subscriptions to "Grit" magazine.
Mr. Hill, I am honored by your praise, especially considering my photographic challenges.
Charlotte, this is what teenage boys do for fun: they buy Journey's Greatest Hits at a yard sale, terroristically infiltrate "Don't Stop Believin" into their mother's CD player, and laugh maniacally when she shrieks. All I can say is thank God there was no Foreigner at the yard sale.
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