TO THE WOMAN WHO ABIDES IN NEW YORK STATE BUT NOT THE CITY
Hey.
I promised you a letter about a year ago, but then I forgot how to write and walk and how to speak the English language and stuff. It was pretty scary. And it was probably going to be permanent, but then I saw this art-haus film called Billy Madison. Not a lot of people have heard of it. Don’t worry.
It’s kind of a parable, though. And in between poignant meditations on geriatric incontinence and the trials of kidulthood, I remembered that it’s never too late to go back and learn things that you should already know and have pool parties and participate in spelling bees officiated by ethically flexible elementary teachers.
Well I thought it would be important to mention that I miss you and that when I win the lottery next week the first thing that I will do is buy a ticket to New York State But Not The City so that we can talk about that summer when I shared an uncomfortable but very free futon with my brother and how I borrowed a dining table from you and never gave it back.
