200 Years of Growing Pains

I saw this on Facebook the other day and it made me think about the 200 plus years of growing pains that our country has gone through. We were based on the concept of equality for all—but the country was still filled with slave owners and certainly meant that in their minds all men were created equal but women were—women.

Okay, so we’ve come pretty far. We stood up against the rest world and fought a civil war that abolished slavery.

Then we went scores of years before giving women the vote and giving our African American population a guarantee in the law—if not in the minds of all—that they were equal and the same. Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King and others brought us away from desegration.

Now, let’s face it. As it’s said in the wonderfully imaginative and funny play Avenue Q, one of the denizens points out, “Everybody’s a little bit prejudice.”

But we’ve fought so hard and long for equality among the sexes, religions, the many colors of humanity we come in, and our choice as far as relationships go, be they traditional or same sex. We have come a long, long way in realizing that we’re all part of this human rat race and all truly entitled to the pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness.

This picture really made me think. I pray that we keep going forward as Americans, in recognizing everyone’s rights—including their right to find happiness in their own personal way—continue. We are as great as all out individual parts—I’d like to believe that we’ll continue to forge forward as a nation, and never take steps backwards that encourage prejudice or cruelty in any way, shape, or form.

Valentine's Day

And here it is . . . one of the finest money making days of the years for greeting card companies, second only to Christmas!

Valentine’s Day!

Some will make a point to profess their love for a sweetheart. Some will think that they haven’t a sweetheart at the moment and be depressed—other will think that they haven’t a sweetheart at this moment and see a movie and maybe treat themselves to a great dinner!

But, the reason we celebrate is really quite nice, even if it is shrouded in myth and maybe only partially true—or if the legend is really based on the lives of several men.

Legend goes that evil Claudius II of Rome believed that soldiers fought better when they didn’t have wives, and therefore, he put a ban on marriage. Valentine was a priest—a no-no in the eyes of Claudius from the get-go. But Valentine believed in the love and the sanctity of marriage. He was said to have done good deeds akin to miracle and he had also welcomed young lovers for clandestine marriages in his church—perhaps down in the catacombs? Who knows where this was, but those who believed in love came to him. Claudius got his hands on Valentine and blinded him; Valentine merely tried to teach Claudius the goodness of Christianity. Claudius wasn’t to bed, and beloved by so many, Valentine was executed.

In the age of Chaucer, when romance and high gallantry flourished, Valentine was honored.

And to this day, we honor of the memory of the man (or the several men named Valentine) who gave his life for the beauty of love—in its many guises.

So, hey, the economy needs it! Go out and get some chocolates, buy some cards, and give someone some flowers.

There’s nothing wrong about honoring one of our finest human emotions—love!

mystery, romance, intrigue--and a comedy show

A week goes by quickly. I'm getting ready to head to the Big Easy, and realized that I'd meant to comment on Roger right after his show, and now it's a week later. So, back a week! Last Thursday, Roger Lopez, a friend of Shayne and Bryee and crew, made his first appearance on stage as at the Improv in Coconut Grove. I was very proud of him, first, just for getting up there, and living a dream, and secondly because he held his own. It reminded me of how hard it was to take a chance. Any time anyone goes into any of the arts, they are taking a chance. It's put yourself out there. Hope for the best, believe you can provide what someone will like and hope that you'll be good at it and grow and grow. But be ready for the slings and arrows. Let's face it, rejection hurts. For a comic, the lack of laughter is painful. For an author, it's a bad review. Roger did just fine. He was nervous; but he was there. It's the stuff you grow on. Taking a chance is strange and hard and often painful. But here's the thing, too--if you don't take the chance, you're throwing yourself a curve ball harder than any you'll ever have thrown out at you by someone else. The more chances you take, the more often you'll dare, and the more often you dare, the better you'll be at what you want. I realized that the audience out there last week was not out to attack, they were out to enjoy. And they did. Well, let's face it, some audiences will be out to attack. But most of the time, they want to enjoy. So you have to think "Rocky Horror." Don't dream it, be it. Roger was good. One day, he'll roll with the audience in every direction, and he'll just get better and better. He'll go out with confidence, knowing that he's done it, and survived, and not only that, he had a taste of the stage, so he knows he can go on and rule it. He won't please everyone--no one ever does! But he'll garner more and more of an audience every time.

From Roger onto Mystery Writers and Sleuthfest. I hadn't been to speak to our local group in a long time. I was actually a little nervous, and I've spoken hundreds of times. They were kind of a new audience. I was doing a seance. Because I'd written a book called the seance. And because I'd been to a seance. Not because I was really capable of having a seance. So I decided to do an historical view of how spiritualism came into being, and how many people used the beliefs of others as a scam. A wig, a costume. Back to the basics of a theater education. Become another person. Then you aren't the one taking the risk.

But people were ready to play along. They were great, and we had a wonderful time. Britin had a marvelous reaction to her "spirit," and it became a venue of "Ghost" meets "When Harry Met Sally." Not only that, but we had a real psychic there, and she was totally gracious when I introduced her and she spoke. She was truly lovely. (Not only that, but she later "bought" a character name from me at auction, and I think we formed a very nice friendship!)
So. On to the Renaissance festival, in Deerfield Beach as well. (Sometimes, it's good to let a week go by. I'd almost forgotten the hour and a half it took to get the forty miles from Miami to Deerfield!) But the festival is in the same city, just blocks away. So Bryee, Piks (Kathy Pickering) and I headed out to see Zhenia's booth. I loved it! Lots of cool artists out there with their wares--taking chances. Costumes, activities. I won a letter at archery for hitting the heart in the bullseye. It wasn't actually my bullseye, the one I'd been aiming at, but it was a bullseye. On a rather frightening vein, I discovered that I do have an amazing ability to throw knives. I'm even darned good with a two-handed battle-ax.

Back to our cocktail party by the pool, where I discovered just how wonderful and friendly all the folks were in the slightly-different-venue that had caused a few of the old shivers to run down my spine. Onward to the Coconut Creek casino, a new venue of a known venue as well. A new result of the old result--I walked in and won, only to play it all back.
Sunday morning and I went to hear Lee Child speak. He's the ultimate gentleman--and the English accent doesn't hurt a bit. I've gotten to hear Lee speak many times, as we're often at the same functions, but he's always clever, honest, earnest, and entertaining. He has trouble choosing names for his characters. His main protagonist is Reacher. The man's name is Reacher because he was in a store and a small woman kept asking him, as a tall man, to reach something for her. Definitely, the man is amusing. And his words of wisdom are always . . . words of wisdom, well worth hearing!

Sunday afternoon, back to the fair. Faire. I'm not sure which! More knife throwing. If I could actually do that once a week, it would be a great stress breaker! Ah, well. But I may take up archery and find out if I can actually hit my own bullseye.

Down to South Beach to pick up Chynna at a friends; their class had been paid to a performance art piece for a movie premiere. However, the phone we had just taken forever and a lot of trips to actually replace was not charged--I sat around a long time, huffing and puffing, waiting for her to call me. I needed to run back to the fair and throw things--knives, battle axes, whatever!--but that wasn't to be. Eventually found Chynna, and we headed home, where the dread cold being nursed eternally by other members of my family finally sniggled its way into my being. Swilling vitamin C. I'm hoping the soy chips I live on will help fight it off!

Tomorrow, back to the Big Easy. I do love it.

The moral of the story is this--there are certain things we're all comfortable doing. I can actually speak at the drop of a hat, I'm very accustomed to it. But no matter how far we go, we're all a little afraid to put ourselves out there, to try to tell others what we have to believe ourselves--that we have something to give, that we have a talent, one good enough to share. I always decided that the one really good thing about having been a theater major/in theater was that I did learn how to be good at rejection. But you'll never garner the prize if you don't get in the ring. Adage--we only go around once. Do it. Don't just write it. Mail it. Get it to where you're happy, you're proud, and get it out there. Let that baby that's in your inner soul fly from the nest. That's the only way it can really take wing. And soar.

On Writing and Publishing

I'm often asked for advice, so I'm going to write a page with advice, and to make sure that my advice is taken with a grain a salt, the first piece of advice I have to give is that reading is subjective. I may love something, you may hate it. That's true with any art form, visual, music, movies, and the written word. You must be true to yourself--however, if you have a dozen editors tell you that something is a cliche, trite, or overdone, it probably is, and you need to step back and take a look at your work.

Writing can be different for different people. Diaries are something many people keep, and some, especially those written during historic eras, later become best sellers--often after the record keeper is long dead.

So, there is writing for your own pleasure, and there is writing for publication. First up, and this isn't always easy, know what you're writing. Any bookstore has shelves, and certain books go on certain shelves. Often, when I ask someone what they're working on, they'll give me a vague description of many things. This is fine, because I'm your friend, or I'm trying to help you. But when you're trying to publish with a major commercial publisher, they want you to know exactly what you're doing and what your market is going to be.

My next suggestion. If you're going into fiction, write what you love to read. The world is wide open right now. Mysteries, slashers, horror, romance, sci-fi, fantasy--we've reached a point where publishers have discovered that there is a market out there for so many types of fiction. Even "mixed" fiction, or fiction that crosses the lines and appeals to readers of many genres. But know what you're mixing, and always know why you should be writing what you're writing. That doesn't mean that you have to write books with bridges in them if you're an engineer. It's valid to say that you are working on a cozy mystery because you've spent your life reading every possible book of that genre you can find. Or suspense. Or horror. You spent your life watching Hammer films. You lived for Poe, or even more literary authors. Settle in your mind what you want, what your goal is with your writing, and then take steps to reach that goal.

Smart steps. Writers love company. They love the company of other writers. Writers usually know what's going on. They know when a new house has opened. They know when an old house has opened a new line. They even know if a particular editor has a bee in his or her bonnet when it comes to a certain type of fiction, or even a place, or name. In selling, these things can make a difference. If you're far away from any known civilization, there are still dozens of talented and published authors offering courses on the Internet. You can be part of Internet readers groups.
I know people who are successful, published authors who have come from every walk of life, from those who have achieved several doctorates to those who might still be working on their GEDs. Men and women. CEOs and stay-at-home moms. They all have one thing in common--they love to read. They may not spell brilliantly, they may not have the most amazing command of the English language. But they are willing to learn, and they read like crazy. They write, because they have loved so much to read.

They are story tellers.

And on to that particular piece of advice--get your story down. Tell your story from beginning to end. Make it exciting. Don't wear yourself out correcting and re-correcting page one. Once you're told your whole wonderful story and you don't think your first page is or first pages are worthy, go back. But don't make yourself sick of a story before you've told it.

Listen to advice, and throw out advice. When an editor who has the power to buy your story suggests you change something, that's really the time to do it.

Learn to take criticism. Learn to weigh it. What is valuable, and what is someone's opinion that might not be shared by a larger audience, your audience. If you've been reading like crazy, you will know what audience you are striving to gather. Again, all opinions can be valid, but the opinions that matter are the ones that come from those who can buy your book.

Don't try to correct things at first--make sure you do correct them before you send them off. They will not reject an amazing story because of errors, but they will put down a "maybe" story if it's costing them their eyesight. Make sure your manuscript is double-spaced, margined, as free from typos as you can make it, and as clean and neat. That's after you've given your heart to the story.

Buy Writer's Digest Writer's Market. The current issue. Or get it at the library, if every penny counts. You can find out who is buying what, and how they want it submitted. Address your manuscript to the name of the editor at the house you have chosen who is actively purchasing your type of fiction. (Or nonfiction!)

People can be born rich. They are not born published. Sure, sleep with the president, and it will be easy to sell a book. Not always feasible! Nor can everyone be a sports star, movie star, or personality. You may have luck immediately, you may spend time looking. If you're serious, you tell your story and make it wonderful. You learn how to write a great query letter that will tell an editor cleanly what your book is about, why it would fit perfectly with the publishing house, and why you're qualified to write it. You will learn how to write a succinct synopsis that excites an editor. Remember, it must tell the whole story--they do not want a synopsis that ends with, "And you won't believe what happens then!"

Be Internet savvy. (I'd have given a lot for that talent!) You can do research on the Internet, you can market on the Internet, you can find out about publishers on the Internet.

The path to publication is never the same for any two people. If you're rejected, hopefully it will be with a note. The note will give you advice. See if you can make it work. Send out to a number of houses. Know whether they do or do not accept multiple submissions. You'll now know this because you'll have Writer's Digest Writer's Market, or lots of friends a few steps ahead of you because you've joined a group. A group that you can find on the Internet, such as (key words) Mystery Writers of America, Romance Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, and Horror Writer's of America. There are so many more; most regions have fiction groups, most junior colleges offer creative writing.

Don't do it if you don't love it. Don't write if you don't read--you'll really annoy other writers a whole lot! Sometimes, you'll just write something, you'll find an agent, the agent will love your work, it will go on auction, and someone will give you a zillion dollars. Sometimes. That's not the norm. You'll probably go through trial and error. You'll have to get a rejection letter and smile at your wife or husband, girlfriend/boyfriend, and kids or friends, and pretend like a little piece of you isn't insulted and breaking. A little suffering is good, because it's a tough field, and you need to be tough. And, besides, most of the published people out there have been rejected, and we're human, we want you to suffer a little, too.

Keep at it. If you want it, never say die. Tenacity is nine-tenths of law.

Time . . . .
Working all day? Ten kids? Laundry? A household to support? Yes, it's very hard. But be committed. If it's a page a day, in a year, that's 365 pages. Whatever it is that you give, do it as religiously as you would pump iron if you were trying to be Mr. or Mrs. America. (Or Ms.)
There's some basic advice, and remember, weigh what works for you. Every person out there is different, and that's the beauty of what we do. If you're down, remember J.K. Rowling had been rejected many, many times. Often, you have to find the right home.
Tell a great story. That's the most important. Tell a wonderful story, and while you're shopping it, sit down and tell another wonderful story. Don't ever stop. Don't ever, ever let anyone tell you that it's a pipe dream. Dreams are lost because we believe they can't be reached. Believe in yourself. Think Nike. Just do it.

The Dog Walk, more than just saving animal lives!

It's amazing how you can have the best intentions for a Saturday morning, then want to cop out when the alarm goes off. But I had agreed that we should do the dog walk. I loathe the concept that animals have to lose homes and often be put to sleep for no other reason than that they might be old, a mix that doesn't appeal, or because they just can't find an owner quickly enough and time is running out for them.

So I crawled out of bed. Bryee and Jess showed up and took the dogs in one car and I followed in the other (so I could head to the audition and get Chynna when it was over.) I couldn't park anywhere near the registration point at Bayfront, so I thought the intelligent thing to do was park at Chynna's school and walk the few blocks to the walk. I mean, the day was a walk, right? But there was construction, so, bizarrely, I was actually blocked from walking in a straight path. Still, a longer walk to the walk, and I was there.

Well, I loved it. Where else but in a flat picture you can see or touch could you possibly see a pair of one pound tea-cup Yorkies next to the biggest Dane known to man? Every possible breed and mix was there, some just in their birth suits, and some with scarves and a few in actual costumes. I didn't see a single dog fight, and people were as friendly as I've ever known. We all had questions, we all had advice. Toto actually got to meet a few other Cairns, and Nikki was able to hob-nob with at least six other huskies. A high point was a huge mix--wolf and husky. Nikki looked like a miniature next to him. He was gorgeous--his actual owner is a serviceman who has been deployed, so the fellow's roommate has now had him for many years. He's calm and sweet, so he must be receiving a lot of love and attention!

There was a group of about six massive Basset hounds, Danes, Greyhounds, you name it. The big and the small, the black, white, tan, and beige.

The thing is, the dogs came in all varieties. So did the people. Some of us were offering our animals water at the pools set up for the animals, and some of us were offering agua. Some of us were black, some white, some yellow, and some were mixed. I heard a fair amount of Russian, French, and German, as well as Spanish and French. We were old, young, and in between.

It was one of those days when I knew why I love living here so much. We are just as varied as all those breeds of dogs, and many of us are good old American mutts. We all knew a good cause when we saw one. And here's one great thing about a good cause. You meet people you have other causes. Or people who have an interest in something else you do. It's a ricochet effect of laughter, fun, and talking, and learning more not just about dogs, but people.

We spent a lot of the morning with Graham and Camille, owners of Completely Canine where Bryee worked for many years. They definitely love animals, and they run a great store. I have had my dog for ten years. He looks at me and ignores me. If Graham whispers the word sit, the dog is all ears. Graham knows how to train animals with infinite patience. There's no cruelty or punishment, just a reward system of caring. I think he's going to have really great kids.

There should have been something negative--something a little off always happens, that's life. But it didn't. Kelly Craig was hosting, and having been interviewed by her a few times, I was glad to see her. She's impressive; she's real. It didn't surprise me that she was out to help the humane society. There was plenty of water for people and pets. I just can't think of anything negative.

Oh, well, there was the walk back to my car. I'm used to the one way streets, the people who all stop at the same time in the same place, the junkies who wander into the road . . . but this thing about walking detours was new. So, okay, by the end, I was hot, tired, and burned. And the walking detour seemed very long. But that was it.

A great experience with Jess, Bryee, Nikki, and Toto, a zillion other Miami pets, and a zillion other Miami people.

Finally confused even myself

Writers tend to be super nice people, published, not published. It's a solitary pursuit, so we make up for it by having groups. I happen to love many types of fiction (and nonfiction) so I belong to lots of groups. Groups have conferences. I now belong happily to RWA, FRW, HWA, MWA, ITW and NINC, and something made me decide this year that I had to go to them all. Except that two of them are on the same weekend, and I registered for both.

They aren't even taking place in the same time zone.

But I am going to both.

I have actually never been to either before. I don't want to give up either. So I an going to both. Ninc has some friends going I really want to see, so I'll head to New York for the first few days. I also have a book coming out that week that takes place in New York, so NYC is a great place to be. But a chance to go to the World Horror Convention, too? No way to resist. I just wish it was easier to get from NYC to Salt Lake City. No matter, I can't wait for either. Yes, I can. There is another college trip first, this one to New Orleans. I love New Orleans, so there's no hardship in going there. And I'm going back near New Orleans to Houma for the Jubilee Jambalaya--Molly Bolden is a key organizer for it, and Molly and Kaye run what is seriously one of the most incredible independent bookstores in the country.

I particularly love Molly's take on people in a bookstore. First off, to know her is to love her. She says it the way it is. I was talking about the fact that it would drive me mad in a Borders or Barnes and Nobles, the way people leave books and magazines all over the table. Employees there will tell you they would rather put the merchandise back themselves, it's always mis-shelved if they don't. But when Molly sees someone just sticking a book back anywhere, it's her shop--she can stop them. So she'll tell someone, "Excuse me, I know you can read, you were just reading that book, and therefore, you know that A comes before B, and B comes before C!" She is amazing. An author goes to an event at her store, not just a signing. A reader will find someone who knows books backwards and forwards. It's not just a store, it's a focal community point. Super special, all the way.

This Saturday, there's another audition for Chynna. And I'm doing the walk for the humane society with Bryee, Nikki, and Toto. A dog social. The weekend after, Sleuthfest. Deerfield Beach, at the Hilton--with amazing mystery writers. People I admire tremendously.

I just keep losing things when I pack. Annoying.

But an easy trade for a brush with some of the talent that is out there.

Tonight, Bryee are I are with Stuart. He just had surgery. He's pretty amazing himself, just out of the hospital, walking, talking, and really fine. But T just left for a long planned trip, and since Stuart had two more surgeries to go, it's good that she got away. I feel like a cheat; she took such good care of me when I needed it, and he's just too easy to take care of! Oh, well, back to pretending that I'm a halfway decent nurse.

Advantures in Auditioning, cont.

There's only one home school on Chynna's list of possibilities--home being the state--and I thought it was a good and intelligent choice. University of Central Florida. Now, I'm almost sure she will wind up in California. Selfishly, I don't want this to happen. It's far, far away. It's a different time zone. Nothing against California, or Californians--some of my favorite people are out in that far, far away state. But there are good things for theater-type folks in Florida, too. It's a joke that people wind up working for Disney. I have had my problems with Disney--as have all Floridians--but it's not such a bad place to work--look at the Disney kids out there who have made it. Notice people paying thousands for a ticket to see Hannah Montana. So, she had Billy Ray Cyrus for a dad. Not only is Disney in the center of the state, so is Universal. And Busch Gardens, and a trillion other venues for talented young people.

So, one audition in the state, Saturday afternoon. Turns out, it's President's Day weekend as well, but there will be no fun out of town trip for whomever in the family wants to go. We have planned a major family dinner. My mother-in-law is now 86, and loves to cook, but it must be done her way, and you must eat it the second it comes off the stove. My aunt and uncle in law--the loveliest people in the world, our "muppet" relatives as I think of them, in the best way--are down. So dinner can be made for fifteen people. The time has been set.

I would not dream of changing the day of her dinner. I would rather face a firing squad.

So this means up on Saturday morning, spend a night, head back down to Nana's house for 2:00.

Honest, when we were all around the table, I couldn't help but think Sopranos!

But first there was the quest to reach the table.

We have a rental car for various reasons at the moment. I actually need to get a new tire, so I opt for the rental car. I made sure to check all the payment refill information on my Sun-pass, but then forget to transfer my sunpass from my car to the rental.

Tolls. Florida now seems to have tolls every five miles. Okay, that's an exaggeration--until you get into the middle of the state. I'm glad I allowed a little extra time. I didn't know the roads heading that way--my school was USF, the other way, toward Tampa. But the directions were pretty good, until you actually got to the school, which is mammoth. But there was another page just for musical theater students--lesson in reading everything first! So, we made it, and in plenty of time.

I admit to being a little startled by a somewhat "we ARE theater" attitude they seemed to have. There is probably not a place more renowned than Juilliard, and they were the friendliest, nicest people in the world, to parents, and to kids. They encouraged the kids to come back for all three opportunities they would be given. They told them if they were serious, it was really a small world, wherever they wound up, they would be a community. Good speech, I loved it. They weren't mean at UCF, they just weren't as open and . . . cool!

The kids were more nervous. They kid of sat apart. At the other auditions I've been to, they all talked, helped one another, and seemed aware that it WAS an audition, but at a certain comfort level with themselves.

I love my state. Passionately. But I did want them to just chill.

First up, dance. Chynna doing a ballroom dance is a vision of beauty. Really. Not just because I'm her mom. Long ago, we made a deal. I always give her my opinion. Opinion. Important word. Any art is suggestive. What I love, you may hate. And your opinion is as valid as mine. But I have sworn to be honest at all times. So, ballroom ,she is great. Dance in general, her weakness--at least, against some of the whizzez at New World. She can sing with amazing ability, and she can act. Dance is her Achilles heel.

But she had a good time, and she felt she did well. They used great music. She told me she was right in the middle--some kids had been amazing, some had been weaker than she felt she was herself. But what was nice--she enjoyed it. She'd been so afraid of it, and she wound up having a great time.

Then, waiting.

The kids changed. "Spritzed the pits!" As one of the teachers said.

And then, the audition was over. So, here we were, our big mother-daugher totally alone evening. We headed to the Dolphin at Disney where we had chosen to stay because she once thought we had owned part of it, we went so often. We thought we'd hop over to Epcot and go somewhere that we never went when the whole family was there. Great Britain for dinner--my choice, and she seemed to like it. Fun waiter, and a nice dinner, pot roast and chicken, explored a few appetizers. She wanted to go and see where we'd once had a doll made for her in Germany. It's expensive. A hundred something, and we'd saved up at the time and it was a big deal. So, we had walked to Epcot, then we walked all around Epcot, and went back. We love the folks at the karaoke at the Swan, and we thought we'd pop in for an hour or so.

But we didn't make it. On the walk back, I suddenly realized I'd been up since 6, driven hundreds of miles, walked several miles, and was tired. Before I could say it, Chynna told me, "I suddenly feel . . . exhausted!"

Our big night out. We went to bed at about 9 or 9:30. I didn't even make it for the movie we rented on TV. I fell asleep soon after the credits.

The hotel was crowded. It looked as if was Easter or Thanksgiving, even Christmas, it was so crowded. We decided to hop over to Downtown Disney for breakfast. That all went well. Easy to park, easy to go through the line, and get salads for breakfast and some granola parfait things which seemed like a good choice since we were doing the massive 1000 calorie Italian thing for lunch/dinner.

There's where I messed up. Wasn't sure how to get to Osceola Parkway from downtown, so I decided to take I-4. Okay, East just seemed wrong. I think it was because of the westward trail I'd taken back from UCF. If you get on a road going the wrong way at Disney, you are in trouble. You don't just turn around. You go for miles and miles.

The good thing about Chynna then was that she refrained from saying "I told you so," more than once.

Finally, we wind up back on Osceola Parkway. The turnpike is crowded. Okay, it is winter in Florida. But there was a line for coffee, a line for gas, and a line for the ladies' room.

Still, we were only about 45 minutes late.

And then, the Italian lunch/dinner with the crows of thousands was wonderful, and Graham crawled on the floor, and it was just like . . . .

A poor man's version of the Sopranos! Pasta, pasta, homemade, and absolutely delicious.