Thursday, February 16, 2006

Reader mail and dinner with Meagan

Crazy Train (of thought)

While at the wax museum in NYC, we noticed that no one was having their picture taken with Yoko Ono. Go figure.

Did you see that lady on Wife Swap wailing about her dogs having to sleep outside? “They’re adopted!” she screamed. What a riot!

OK, having said that, I bought the pink sweater for Princess that Jill wanted her to have. A dog with a wardrobe. Just shoot me.

Why can’t the weekend paperboy get the paper on the porch like the weekday guy can?

What is Barbara Boxer trying to accomplish? I’d rather watch a root canal video than listen to her.

Marital Bliss

My sweet darling is sick today, but she went into work anyway. I sent her with some hot homemade soup for lunch. I hope she feels better soon. I’ve kissed her so much I am sure to get the crud, too. Well, we do share everything.


Meagan and I went to dinner last night on a dad-daughter date. The conversation went something like this:

“Good, that hot waiter is here.”
“Is that why you picked this restaurant?”
“Do you think he notices me?”
“How can he not, you’re prancing around for him.”
“I’m going to tell him I want to have his children.”
“Tell him before we order, perhaps we’ll get extra calamari.”
“How much are you going to spend on my birthday?”
“I don’t have to think about that for another two months.”
“Well I do, I need to pick stuff out.”
“You don’t think I can pick out something?”
“You have no fashion sense. By the way, what are you wearing to the parents’ reception at school tomorrow?”
“I thought I would just stay in my pajamas.”
“Just write your phone number on the table. If he’s interested, he‘ll call.”
“I just farted. Do you think he heard me?”

Today’s Rant

I include my email address in each book so my readers can contact me if they wish. I respond to every email I receive. I got one yesterday from someone who seems a little, shall we say, off center. I responded with a polite “thanks for your note” kind of note, that’s it. Nothing harsh, but clearly nothing that invited a dialogue. Well, this reader writes back today, outraged that I didn’t take more interest in her message, that I didn’t have something more personal to say. Who am I, her priest, her therapist?

Book Report

I received my copies of the new Brothers and Sisters book yesterday. I love it. It is a tribute to my siblings and my children. I hope it is something that will have meaning for them for years to come. That is perhaps what I enjoy most about writing the books, being able to put into words, in a permanent and long-lasting form, how I feel and what I am thinking, and then finding that one of the books has touched someone else in a profound way. It is a treat, a real blessing. Although it may seem I contradict myself because of the Rant above, I love getting email from readers. Ninety-nine in 100 are sweet, telling me personal stories that are always moving and many of which make me cry. One in 100 leave me grateful I live in a gated community.

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