an echo chamber for one
One martini in and things are going relatively smoothly – or at least how I expected it would. Mostly there were people there I knew, or rather, that I knew of in school. All in all, it went pretty painlessly until someone utters five fateful words to me:
It was early Thanksgiving week when I saw my old high school principal staring back at me from my Facebook inbox. He looked a lot like he did when I was in school and certainly better than he does now (being dead is hell on one’s complexion I’m told). Not one to keep Mr. Guzick waiting, I opened the message. Read the rest of this article »