The older I get, the more curious I become about that cross-over moment so affectionately referred to as “kicking the bucket.” I imagine death will be something of an adventure in and of itself. Whew! Trippy! Nevertheless, I feel a certain responsibility to life and, far as I can tell, a good many years to live up to it. Yes, I have a book to finish…two actually in the works. And I’d love to see the pyramids and get a glimpse of the dead sea scrolls. But it’d be nice if I could read heiroglyphs and Hebrew before that happens. Today though, if I could make any wish come true, I’d transport myself to Bonn, Germany. I’d start at the graves of Robert & Clara Schumann and then find Beethoven’s birthplace. I don’t know how much is still standing, but it would be really swell to find the old organ loft where Beethoven was first introduced to Bach’s preludes, and the palace where he spent so much time as a teen-ager playing Mozart with the state orchestra. From there, I’d make my way to Vienna, like Beethoven did. Then from Vienna to Paris…I’d probably try to follow Chopin’s route, even though Mozart made that journey as a child, and so did Franz Liszt, and much later, Gustav Mahler. But I’d love to find Nohant, George Sands estate, where Chopin composed so many wonderful things. And from Paris to St. Petersburg, like Tschaikowsky and Stravinsky did more than once. Take the train from St. Petersburg to Moscow, like Rachmaninoff and Shostakovich and Prokofiev… You get the picture. I’d just like to spend a few months walking in the footsteps of the great composers. They gave us all so much.

I have a tape of a family reunion that took place way back in the 50’s. One of my uncles was the self-styled D.J. for the evening’s entertainment. He’d brought along a new-fangled portable reel-to-reel, and set it all up in my grandmother’s garage. My Daddy was the star of the show, accompanying everybody on the guitar. My older brother and sister sing some fabulous harmony to “Mexicali Rose” and “You Wore a Tulip”…they were probably eight or nine years old. And then there’s me, at five, squawking out a solo performance of “Be Kind to Your Parents”. Incredible! It’s sort of an audio heirloom, really. The embarrassing part is I still listen to it sometimes, especially when I’m feeling hopeless. Sorta re-roots me, or something. Refreshes my perspective on the value of my silly little life. But it’s not anything I’d play for company.

All I know is, none of them look particularly happy.

You’re a gem, Liz. I contemplated the Literacy bash all weekend, wondering if I’d ever find myself amid such a glittering collection of people. Part of me hopes not. I’m not sure I’d know how to behave. But it is great to hear about it all through your voice. Thanks

When I die and go to heaven, I want a something like Jane Wagner’s. But for now, I sit at a tiny little L-shaped desk…a made-over stereo cabinet, actually…in the corner of my bedroom. There is a window above it…which is the only thing that gives me any sense of space when I work. I’m surrounded by huge robust trees that are currently a vibrant shade of green. Birds, butterflies, or the occasional squirrel enliven the view. There’s hardly room for any reference books…my dictionary and Thesaurus, of course, and my favorite anatomy texts. Just under the window is my grandmother’s photo. Two great grandmother’s, two daughters, and four grandaughters…all the genetic women’s power I can muster…and of course, Henry’s baby picture. And my favorite quote of all time…taken from an old National Geographic volume…”Sit down and be humble to the scribal art. You have to ponder it night and day. The scribal art is a goot lot. The scribe has a good protective spirit and a clear eye and this is what the royal palace needs.” - Sumerian School Teacher, 1150 B.C. It’s in a tiny frame and in front of my face all the time. It’s a very inspiring little corner of the world for me.

I’d definitely be the dishwasher. Wait a minute. I AM the dishwasher!

Hi Frank. Wanted to congratulate you on your pick of the week. I think we all admire your enduring love for Anne…not to mention your voracious literary appetite. Right now, I’m trying to get through an Arthur Miller bio and refresh what I managed to learn about the Hebrew language before classes start in the fall. So I feel completely pedestrian when I read your posts. You set a wonderful standard though. Thanks.

Teachers are grossly underpaid. And, as a nation, we’re still quibbling about merit pay! For the very people to whom we entrust the minds of America’s next generation. It is just agonizing. And then, there are all the young men and women who are willing to lay down their lives in combat. They go pretty cheap, too. And most never realize the hope of a higher education that the recruiters dangle over their noses. I don’t have any answers, but something’s definintely wrong with this picture.

In the first grade, I tackled Tommy Boyd in the coat rack and kissed him. I had to go stand in the hall. In the fourth grade, Gary Grow kissed me under “The Big Tree”…a huge oak on the far side of the field behind my house. His lips were really soft. He gave me a necklace, but when I found out he was kissing Cindy Adams, I left the necklace on the handle bars of his bike, and never talked to him again.

Hysterical, Carol.

The sun? Rising and setting?? I’m terrible at riddles.

Good for you, Mugsy! For this and the China and Burma relief links. I was so happy about the news in California. It is a human rights issue, as far as I can see. I say…hetero divorce rates being what they are…why wouldn’t we support any two people who want to commit to love and family, hearth and home. Am I wrong? Isn’t the family the fundamental economic unit? It’s insanity for the government to even be involved, but even more incomprehensible that we would deny any desire to enhance the fabric of our nation. It’s the ultimate sexism…and it swings both ways.

Wow Oh Wow! I’m gonna have to study this for a little fashion flare…just in case I ever have a chance to attend such a regal do-ins. I feel like a cyber-Cinderella. I have one dress that might have worked, but I dunno…. Beautiful, beautiful. One and all. But especially Liz and Joni and Leslie…goodness! You are beautiful people…and like attracts like.

I’m in.

Well, I could’ve sworn you would have said it was a handkerchief…Congrats on your pick… You’ve outdone yourself here. What a treasure those booties will always be. You can almost see their hands in every stitch sometimes. Carry on! You d’bess!