I've Started Many Novels, And They All

I Saw My Ex-husband In The Street. I Was Sitting On The Steps Of The New Library. Hello, My Life, I Said. We Had Once Been Married For Twenty-seven Years, So I Felt Justified. He Said, What? What Life? No Life Of Mine.

As An Older Person, I Do Feel An Obligation To Tell The Story About What Was Really Happening In The Fifties, Sixties, And Seventies, As I Saw It.

My Language Limitations Here Are Real. My Vocabulary Is Adequate For Writing Notes And Keeping Journals But Absolutely Useless For An Active Moral Life. If I Really Knew This Language, There Would Surely Be In My Head, As There Is In Webster's Or The Dictionary Of American Slang, That Unreducible Verb Designed To Tell A Person Like Me What To Do Next.

I'm Really Sorry For People Growing Up Right Now, Because They Have Some Cockeyed Idea That They Can Get By With Their Eyes Closed; The Cane They're Tapping Is Money, And That Won't Take Them In The Right Direction.

A Joke Is Necessary At This Time.