Which Reminds Me

That is scary to think that some unknown persons of no interest to me are sitting up there in the attic waiting for me to come and get them, as if I should care about the Talking Heads, or even be aware of them. You are way out of my sphere of interests. I never had any desire to dialogue with the nattering nabobs of negativity, as you yourself described it. So obviously I am just going to drop the Wilson racket and leave those tennis geeks floundering in their courts of 0-Love return service. Tennis was never that important to me.

Which Reminds Me

One day when I was 12 living in Modesto, Calif., when my grandmother came home from the grocery store, her purchases included a bag of chips. The wording on the package said "Pork Rinds" but strangely they just tasted like sort of like potato chips to me. I offered the bag to my cousin David who took one and ate it, then looked at the bag to see what this new flavor of chip was. Upon reading the words "Pork Rinds" David went into an apoplectic fit, accusing me of tricking him or trying to poison him. Don't I know what "pork rinds" means? Oh, yes, I suppose that could actually mean pig skins, literally. What a strange wording to put on a package. Could that be true? But why would anyone, even my own grandmother bring home pork rinds from the grocery store? And why is David so severe in his accusations against me? It is not like we were ever Jewish. Didn't we all enjoy the way grandmother perfectly slow-cooked the ham for holiday dinner? So let's just temper Cousin David's emotional overkill with a dose of reality.

Which Reminds Me

After I saw Anna Eber's name on a piece of paper, I did some research and learned that while she was a waitress in a Pasadena coffee shop most of her life, she was originally from Ohio, possibly the Lima area where my great-grandfather was from, so that maybe partly explains her association with her former neighbors from Ohio. Not that I would know anything about that. I only saw her name on a piece of paper. For details on that project and how it fell apart you would have to ask someone else in the family because I really don't know anything about that. I only know that I personally have not much connection to Ohio in my generation. I once had a dog named Dee Dee, a black poodle, but that does not constitute an Ohio relationship to me, thanks anyway. I don't think that I know anyone from Ohio.

Which Reminds Me

You yourself are a snake that bit me so it would be ludicrous for you to warn me about snakes.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, maybe I forgot to explain that I will not be applying for the position of fairy godmother to your dirty little Mexican mudpie. You will just have to work, work, work because certainly you are not going to get a free lunch from me. So there is the scripting that you were asking for. Oh, I hadn't though of that, but you insisted.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was telling me of the existence of Uncle Sam, and how the Establishment has ears only for Uncle Sam, viewing the rest of us as garbage as far as they are concerned, even though we are all equally U.S. citizens. And because Uncle Sam's family attended a Foursquare Church in the Bay Area, the churches attended by the rest of us are slighted even though we are all of us may look forward to being part of that city built foursquare of Revelation prophecy as long as we hold to our Christian faith, not to confuse that with other allegorical cities of another sort. And because Uncle Sam's children have some unexplained grudge against our church, the AG, the sour grapes of Sam are given much weight even though the rest of us really don't really care what Sam thinks about the AG. I mean, really, who was Sam? Sam who? I didn't even know that Sam existed until someone was trying to pass along his sour grapes to me. Of course, my uncle's Foursquare garbage has blurred that picture. And what has the Foursquare ever done for me? Nothing comes to my mind. There was never any rule requiring us to learn music by the Do-Re-Mi system. My family has always been AG, although we are aware of the other alternative groups out there that prefer to emphasize four or five points. The four points are acceptable to us even if we continue to operate under a separate organization and see no reason to discuss that with strangers whose intentions and/or essence are not so clear to us.

Which Reminds Me

It is only recently that we learn of the existence of the Beltramos. Oh. I was not aware of their existence, obviously, so why would I want to compare notes with their overly expectant Italian mafia trash cousins of San Francisco? I have almost no clue what they are talking about. They exude an expectant air of knowing something and yet they are mostly inarticulate and unable to explain themselves in the English language. This creates a problem for us in any attempt to understand what their problem is.

All I can say is that you will not find my vital records in Santa Clara County. I would not want to be listed among Uncle Sam's Bay Area Established Idiots of San Jose.

We suspect that Uncle Sam knew something more about that but we don't have clue. They never tell us anything.

Which Reminds Me

If the battle is already concluded and the slave labor contract shredded, what are these shrill Catholic pizzamaking law sharks of San Francisco still screeching about? I don't work for them. Never did. As far as I am concerned, they have nothing of interest to say to me. I am not even slightly related to those whiners. They ought to take a few lessons from us, shut your stupid motormouth and listen for a change, get new information and adjust your picture of reality, because otherwise someone ought to be instructing the army to protect us from their overly aggressive depredations, not the other way around. I have done the tourist things of San Francisco but have no reason to go back there later, especially not now.

Which Reminds Me

I remember Sharon Deras talking about how much she loves the music of Mocedades, a musical group based in Spain. They might even be actually Basques although I'm not sure. They were very popular all over Latin America. I liked their music, too. So why is there a music video on Youtube of them extolling Che Guevara, a Cuban who died young during the Cuban Revolution after vacationing in Argentina, where he plays a role in the Broadway musical that I never saw in its entirety anyway? He is often romanticized by Marxists as the best known martyr of the Cuban Revolution. Of course, if you talk to the Cubans in the U.S. who fled Cuba as a result of that Revolution, they will tell us a completely different story of Che. So obviously it depends on which side of the political fence you are sitting on, whether you think that Che was a hero or a villain. The Cubans of the U.S. have been waiting a long time for the Cuban Revolution to implode eventually and yet the island country continues to putter along just fine with help from its own set of friends in Europe and Latin America. So this stalemate could possibly continue indefinitely, someone is saying. I don't know why I would need to comment on that. I personally do not involve myself in the border disputes of Southern Cone countries, although there is always a danger of getting trapped by circumstances beyond one's control.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how well I remember the mindless stupidity of Rhonda Hurd [Michigan] and Jan Chance [Virginia Beach] at Evangel College, how we were playing a board game, maybe Sorry or Clue or Monopoly, I don't remember which, and how they vociferously accused me of cheating, and how I had to pull out the piece of paper with the instructions and show where it explains what I did and how that is approved by the rules, and then they just go blank and hit a mysterious Reset and completely forget later what we were talking about, and then later on some other point they will again pitch another fit about some other point of fact and I will again have to go through similar gyrations of explaining myself, until finally I just don't care anymore what those idiots of Evangel think about me. I refuse to go on playing the stupid "Prove Something" game. It just doesn't matter. What is it they really want proof of? I only that nothing I say will ever be enough to satisfy them. I might as well just not exist as far as they are concerned. Another reason not to return to Evangel the next year.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, R U a Roberts Idiot? Praise God, at least I never attended that worthless college of Roberts riff-raff. Nobody wants to be hearing from the idiots of ORU, especially not now. Who knew that the Roberts were such stab-in-the-back nasty people? I am so not impressed. Why so desperate to prove something? Must be that you are trying to hide something, your own wickedness perhaps,  but I don't want to know more about that. I just won't my own life.

Which Reminds Me

Who is going to finally eliminate the stupid Bueno brats from my old family pictures? I never liked those nasty people very much anyway. Four nasty horrid little Bueno monsters constantly whining about their own selfish desires, never a thought given for my feelings and what matters to me, not to mention their equally nasty cousins and other miscellaneous attachments. I don't really care what they do in terms of a job. I just think they should get a clue and put their vocational training to some useful purpose because they are not dependents of mine.

Which Reminds Me

I wonder what makes these nasty rich people think that I was asking about their money. I don't recall myself ever asking about their money and the sources of it. Which only proves that those rich people are liars. I really don't care about their money, although it is easy to find articles in magazines about people and their money. I only know that I need to find my own money independent of the scummy lowlife Hoskins-Bueno tribe, who are just the nastiest people who ever lived that I know of. Nobody really cares what they do. Nobody really wants to hear more about their stupid lowlife Southern Cone drama. I just want them to go away and stop tripping me up every time I turn around. I just need my paycheck now so that I can get on with my own life independent of the scumbag idiots of San Francisco-Michigan.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember that my sister and Kim and maybe Sylvia and some others played some pranks on the boys while we were at a Retreat, but I was not part of that, maybe because I had to leave early maybe because of having to go home early to take the SAT test or something like that, or else I slept through the prank, so I also missed the final banquet when everyone was appearing at dinner in couples. I can't compare notes on that because I really don't remember very much.

Which Reminds Me

When will the scummy law-sharks of San Francisco finally get a clue? Guess what, the contract is gone and we are under NO obligation to be slave labor to the clueless idiots of the Bay Area. Everyone should be on guard against the machinations of the stupid little Kimmy-Puke and Company of Bay Area snobs who are continuously trying to reinstitute the slave labor contract that was shredded at such a high cost to us. Of course this doesn't do anything to help Anna Eber, the single woman coffeehouse waitress and member of the board who did the paperwork. She died a long time ago without seeing any fruit of that, although I really wouldn't know. I only saw her name on a piece of paper but I do not know one thing about her, just that she existed. So guess what! You can't get blood from a turnip. So why do I have to do your guesswork for you? I would gladly cooperate to have the arrogant scum of San Francisco-Michigan turned over to the proper authorities, but then again I am not sure who that would be. Everybody wants to be in charge and yet nobody wants to explain what they are talking about.

Which Reminds Me

Truth be told, I long ago lost touch with Sandra and her sister Cindy, who was thought to be one of the whackiest space cadets out there. God only knows what Cindy is doing these days. I would be afraid to ask, knowing enough already of how Cindy is sort of. How did a missionary family produce this whacky Cindy? I have no idea. I never spent that much time with the Inka crowd. I only sort of remember that Cindy was one of the weirdest people. A conversation with Cindy would tend to drift off in strange directions. Cindy would ask strange personal questions not appropriate to answer directly, really none of her business. So generally we just avoid Cindy and her stuff, because we really don't need her problems, too. We already have enough complications without the addition of all their mental diseases.

Which Reminds Me

I seem to remember that I paid somewhere above $70 for a dress and matching shoes to be in Pam and Craig's wedding and then all they do is bestow on me with their "Ugly Duckling" curse and kick me around like yesterday's garbage. If that is the kind of "help" offered by the dreary "5" clique of Oakland Park, guess what, I won't need them for anything in the future. I am just saying, get out of my face.

Which Reminds Me

You really should be more discreet in your investigations. There are many things too personal to discuss in a public way with these clueless Roberts always eavesdropping on every little thing. There is no intelligence worth discussing in the presence of them.

Which Reminds Me

Ok, so you are telling me that Fred has an interesting records collection. Yes, well, isn't that nice. We were not aware of the existence of that Fred, had never heard from Uncle Sam's family directly, and now that you have made us aware of the existence of Fred, even so, we really have no idea why this fact would be of any significance to us. We all have our own lives separate and independent of Fred. I don't know if it is only me who is weary of hearing these monotonous rantings that continually emanate from Fred and family. I could sit hear listening to Youtube videos around the clock for the next forty years and never get through all the record collections already posted there. So it is hard for me to understand why I should care about that. If Fred really had something to say, doubtless he could find my address and mail it to me directly. Otherwise I really don't see why someone hasn't already put a muzzle on Fred and family.

Which Reminds Me

If you were really in the know you would remember that the "five" at Oakland Park were a private clique of five dull and boring people who wish to extend the benefits of high school cliqueyness throughout life, even though they were generally not liked that much by the rest of us who were not invited to their private gossip parties. They never really outgrew high school. Even after all these years they still want to run the show and don't seem to get that there are many things they never really understood about that. So if we have them in charge there just won't be a show as far as I am concerned.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I suppose that one could speculate about when, at what future time, if ever, the Royal Academy of the Spanish Language in Spain will finally grant legitimacy to the language deviants of Chile. But it wouldn't be my place to say one way or another. The eminent academicians in charge of regulating the Spanish language and the contents of the Spanish dictionary are the ones to ask about whether there is any prospect of legitimacy someday, eventually, for the slang gang. I really wouldn't know anything about that and, anyway, there is no way to say whether I will live long enough to see that matter resolved, if that ever happens. I have heard that the Spanish language has a more legalistic way of regulating itself than English, not that I would know anything about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, we all heard Chris Christina reproaching Bill for not hurrying up and getting married to her because her clock was running down. This was heard loudly said in front of quite a few people, maybe at a church party, which of course shocked some people. Some girls, myself included, feel that although we all have our internal clocks, it is not good to use that, the clock excuse, to pressure some guy into something not heartfelt when he has not yet decided of his own free will that is what he wants for himself, to marry her that is. But even though that might be the opinion of some of those who heard that, it is not like we would ever say anything about that to those people. It is hard for us to understand why all of these Italian girls such as Chris are so interested in dialoguing with boring Bill. I don't recall him ever having any personality. He sang and played drums at church but there is nothing else of interest to say about self-absorbed cardboard prop Bill, never mind about some clueless thing that Pam and Craig might have said.

Which Reminds Me

By the way, where did all of this 'new wave' music come from? I really wasn't listening to that stuff at the time, but anyway it is probably not hard to find something if you know what you are looking for.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, was she the elected president of the Musicians' Guild? And what was that? Mostly a collection of boring band geeks who organize an annual talent show that devolves over time into an overdose of mostly bad humor. Oh, did I forget to have my name erased from the nominations that time? It's not like I ever thought I could or even particularly wanted to be elected to that slate. It was more that I did not wish to draw any more undue attention to myself by making a scene. I would have to make some noise and say something to get my name erased from the board and, anyway, it wasn't about me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that was a very long story someone was telling me about a college classmate in California but I didn't hear about that until after the fact, after I was long gone from the scene, a rather odd and tortuous way of explaining that. So was all that garbage supposed to prove something? I really don't need your drama. It just gives me a big headache.

Which Reminds Me

This is the place in the script where I am expected to remonstrate about this effort to make me feel guilty of some mysterious wrongdoing of which I was not aware. And am I God that I should take the blame for making Sandra ugly as a fence post? I fail to see why I should feel guilty about a mud fence that I never built in the first place. So?

Which Reminds Me

During the time that I was in high school, I don't quite remember how it was that the get-rich-quick guy Al from San Diego and his son Rick and Rick's Mexican stepmother came to be associated socially with our families. I remember at least one visit to their beach house, sitting around the swimming pool with some people, Rick was there, and they also might have attended some parties. Rick stopped by our house a few times. There was always something sort of weird and shady about Al, always talking about his next big deal to get rich but never really seeming to have a job that we know of. I never really understood very much about that so obviously I cannot be expected to explain what that was about, much less defend Al from the various enemies that he made there. I really wouldn't know very much about that. I heard later that Rick married one of the native girls there at the church and they now live in the San Diego area. Ok, so that's nice although I don't remember who she was. I only remember that Rick was nice but such a bore. I really don't remember them.

Which Reminds Me

No one was twisting Hamilton's arm to demand any event cancellation. If he already had plans to spend the evening smooching with Sandra all he had to do was say so. He should have said something upfront about he would rather be with her and no further questions would be asked. But as he did not say anything about that I really wouldn't know how to answer this trumped-up charge fabricated by clueless persons who had not heard about Hamilton's affair with Sandra. I have no idea where that came from.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, wouldn't that be nice if I could just not have a job and just work for myself and my own business and not have to be bothered about the interests of some other annoying person I never liked very much anyway. But of course there is the problem of expenses. Time costs money. There is no free lunch.

Which Reminds Me

It should be a huge relief to everyone that meddlesome Rowena and her family moved away to somewhere up north. It was always annoying to listen to her putting on such pretentious airs not justified by her meager talents just because she is married to some hot-headed Navy idiot. We will be just fine without Rowena around to gum up the works. Nobody wants to be stuck out in the hall with Rowena and the dreary Hall family. They just weren't that important to me. Life is short so we just can't have the worthless Hall family hogging all of the available public space.

Which Reminds Me

All of these things make me think about the book that Helen wrote. It would be interesting to see what was in that. I think that there is no way that I could possibly write any book about my miserable experience of high school. If I ever did write a book it certainly wouldn't be about them. Not to be mean or anything, but there is just nothing of interest to say about that.

Which Reminds Me

Theoretically speaking it sounds sort of nice to talk about what I would do if I suddenly came into possession of a huge amount of money. Wouldn't I like to give gifts to organizations that supply needs of poor people in other countries as well as in my own? Well, yes, I do think that would be among various good ideas to consider. I wouldn't mind doing that of my own free will in terms of fulfilling my personal duties as a Christian and the like. However, for one thing, no such money exists. I am still as poor as any church mouse, never mind about all this meaningless chitter chatter. Also, the idea of finding myself compelled to reward for the malicious machinations of some crazy Southern Coneheads does not have any appeal for me. I will not accept this notion of myself being compelled to reward some wicked subterfuges that really do not directly apply to the facts of the matter. I am just saying, I think that it should be my own business what I would do with some excess money and you would just have to trust me to do the right thing. But of course you would want total control of any money, even mine, even if you would have to kill me first. So obviously this problem has no possible resolution.

Which Reminds Me

We see that the Georgia Pauls wish to claim for themselves that distinguished title of being the very "Buckle" of the "Bible Belt." But this title is contested by several other states so there is no guarantee of any prize for them on this account. They will just have to get a job and work because, otherwise, they should not be expecting a free ride from me.

Which Reminds Me

Another non-cousin of ours was Paul Barth, a Pentecostal minister in Georgia. Paul had no descendants so obviously we are not related to them. For this reason we will be cutting the Perry very short. We will have no need of the paltry and meager wordings of the clueless Hamilton when we have access to the vast storehouse of wealth available to the entirety of Western and Eastern Civilizations, in other words, basically, the entire Universal History of the Universe. Perry really has nothing of interest as far as we are concerned. I am just saying.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I wonder what makes these total strangers think that I am just going to trust whatever they say, even when they don't seem to know who I am or anything else for that matter. Haven't I already been burned enough times to conclusively demonstrate how utterly untrustworthy these people are? All they do is burn me. And where are all these missing documents to which you refer? Where would I find all of the missing records that no one can find? I wish everyone would just shut up. You can either put up or shut up. Those are your options.

Which Reminds Me

Well, Elizabeth is really not "our" cousin. She is my Dad's cousin because her mother was my Dad's Aunt, which I suppose makes her my second or third cousin two or three times removed. I could say something similar about Beverley. Anyway, Elizabeth lived in Venezuela with the Thomson broads, not that they were acquainted that we know of, or at least they never really explained what they think they know about the Hunts or about us. They just always act confused, as if they did not know that none of us were Jewish. But of course we can't speak for the Hunts. They may have other Hunt associations that we never knew anything about. We only know that we ourselves are not.

Which Reminds Me

Not to be mean but it does make things confusing to see our cousin Elizabeth pretending to be Jewish only because she married Jewish but they are divorced now when actually the rest of us were not Jewish nor were we interested in going that direction. Just because someone named Steve is a Jewish rabbi in San Francisco, that does not mean that he was a cousin of ours. We have no idea how that happened. The surname of my great-grandfather was one of those that is mostly Christian, thought to be derived from Bartholomew, the Christian apostle, but is also sometimes seen on the other side of the fence because, anyway, each individual makes their own decisions. So just because San Francisco is a city full of people with serious identity confusion that does not mean that we want to be required to listen to that stuff all of the time. We have our own lives to live.

Which Reminds Me

Many years ago when I first started working at the newspaper company in Deerfield Beach I remember that there was a sports writers whose name I cannot recall whose desk meant he sat with his back to mine and I to his. Not long afterwards he was fired, thankfully, to the relief of everyone who tired of his constant chitter-chatter. As he was leaving the building he was throwing his leftover business cards all over the place but even so I did not keep one for memory's sake. I would rather just forget about him.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, who was that who was boasting of how our daughters are better trained by their mothers than others? I do think that I heard someone saying that but, anyway, I don't think that you were present at the time and, anyway, nobody was talking to you. That is not something to discuss with you. You just wouldn't understand. It really is more complicated than that but enough said about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, who was that who was boasting of how our daughters are better trained by their mothers than others? Well, not to flatter myself, but I tend to think that my mother better than your mother, not that we would want to got to war on that subject. Some people may get better training than others and yet those with good training don't necessarily do that well in the future due to adverse circumstances while those without training may do better in life even if only by dumb luck. So no generalization can be drawn from these minor chatterings of no importance.

Which Reminds Me

And what is this clueless Hillary crowing about? Truth be told, I never voted for her filthy creep husband Bill so obviously there is no way that these stupid people could possibly confuse me with Monica. There is no connection there whatsoever.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it doesn't make sense. How could the powers of Evangel College expel Jan Green and not also expel June from Massachusetts? June's verbal outbursts were always a huge embarrassment to everyone within earshot. Why should I have to explain all the time to everyone that I only live down the hall from June, don't know where she gets that garbage that is constantly spewing from her sick mouth, never thought anyone would take June's idiotic rantings seriously? And what is this secret deal that June made with Pam Hart? I cannot return to Evangel and have this stupid horrible June always trying to lord it over me, threatening to supervise my future progress, etc. I would rather kill myself than be required to live under those stupid people.

Which Reminds Me

And who is calling who a potted plant? You have your limitations just like everyone else. I don't know who you think you are talking to.

Which Reminds Me

Embargoed for weekdays.
I don't know why but in high school roll call I always say that I am "Here." Not there. Not just anywhere. I am here. I am not present for you. I am here for me, because I always like to learn new things. I am here for the teacher, because I am signaling my location as if still the first day of class and the names are being strangely pronounced as if by a stranger. I am saying "Here" because that is my habitual customary way of responding to roll call. So?

Which Reminds Me

Strange that so much fuss should be made about Maria, who seems to want to position herself as a victim of white people when actually it could just as easily be the other way around. I vaguely recall seeing her strut around campus with her pompous arrogant attitude, but at the time I preferred not to socialize with mean and nasty Amazonians who seem likely to bite my head off if given the opportunity. Anyway, 'twas not I who categorized her with the dummies class of high school. 'Twas not I who declined to accord honor to the idiotic rantings of someone who never had even the slightest acquaintance at all with any of my family in the United States, much less with my clueless aunts and uncles. There was obviously never any family connection there.

Which Reminds Me

Does make you wonder whose idea it was to promote that dreary Santiago family to the level of missionary, a profession that, if pursued as a full-time career, nowadays requires some serious Bible study. A short missions trip is a great experience for young people but a serious missionary career is a much different thing. I was in college with the Santiago girls and yet never spent much time with them. They chirp like magpies aiming to hog the limelight and yet sometimes I think they just want to get free stuff from white people like me just because I happen to be someone they remember from college because otherwise they don't seem to have any actual notion of getting along with the rest of us. They only care about dominating us and wiping us off the map by jumping to various conclusions unsubstantiated by any facts whatever. I think that what facts are going through my head, or rather not available to my head at the time, is another important factor in establishing the fact that I really don't deserve this ridiculously heavy guilt trip. There is a limit to how much excessive guilt trip I can handle and my limit on that has long since expired.

Which Reminds Me

I find many of these allusions to "Little Orphan Annie" basically not very interesting. The story of Mary Alice Smith has already been overdone in popular culture to such a degree that, really, who cares? I really have nothing to add to that. I am much too old already to audition for a child role, and in real life actually I do have parents and a place to stay home, at least for now. So I am insulted to review basically false employment offers of no substance on the table.

Which Reminds Me

I never really knew the Cranfords, which doesn't mean that I ever knew Beverley's family either. I am not interested in discussing their problems with the world when I really don't know the half of it.

Which Reminds Me

I am suddenly reminded of something that happened at work a few years ago, where someone was talking about the case of Monica Crowley. I don't remember much about that. This bogus effort to attach me to Monica has got to stop. I may pity Monica but I never knew anything beyond the usual office chatter, if any, at the sort of average, sort of dingy workplace. I feel no overwhelming need to prove to you that I am not a deaf mute by taking that bait. Rather, I will need to wait until you hang yourself with your own bait.

Which Reminds Me

Someone is continually trying to remind me of something that Lynda wrote in the back of my yearbook the year that she graduated. Her advice was "Bust out next year and show this school up." So that was her idea of something for me to do in the future. However, myself not having all of my bullets in a row, her being part and parcel of the problem with some odd commentaries and her strange dikey-dog conspiracy in league with those doggie-dikes Rose and Debbie, and myself not being particularly interested in the prospect of tearing up parking lots in the middle of the night for a one-time cheap thrill that ultimately chills the bones forever, wasn't particularly sure that I really wanted to do something more about that. Lynda never really explained to me with any degree of clarity what else she was saying and doing behind my back so why should I believe anything that you are saying about that? She said that Warren's Dad accused her of being a gold-digger. What was that supposed to mean? I really wouldn't know. She never really explained what she said or did that provoked such a charge. She only described herself a victim of him.

Which Reminds Me

Sometime during college we were talking about how that song, "It's a Small World After All," tends to stick in the brain to such a degree that it gets very annoying. Yes, ok, so, that is one few conversational tidbits that Dauna might remember about me.

Which Reminds Me

How odd! We never knew how clueless Sandra really was until she married Mr. Smith, and then all this poison comes oozing out the back door. How many times do I have to explain that we are not related to the Smiths? Oh, was my great-grandmother's mother a Smith? Oh, I didn't know that. Even so, we were never in contact with any Smiths that I would ever be aware of any personal connection to the Smiths, so you must have confused me with someone else.