New The New Yorker Cover Nov. 12, 2012

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I tried to flush Schaeffer's sweater down the toilet.

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Especially when those paths go back even farther than high school.  I think he and I were butting heads as far back as elementary school! If my memory serves me right, Schaeffer and I ended up, briefly, in the Guilford Central School together.  Fall 1968.  Yep. I was a newly transplated girl from New Orleans dropped unceremoniously into a tiny, extremely humble elementary school out in the boondocks of southern Vermont.  I had NO idea what the hell I was doing there and was suffering my own case of "Other-itis."   I In my case, as an only child of often charming, but highly eccentric parents, my wild ride hit some very bumpy patches, More on that later. Back to Eric:  See as a newcomer that year to Vermont from New Orleans I had an accent.  I wore dresses and probably continuing too make my parents happy by literally curtseying to the adults they trotted me out to meet. Politely.  Of course.  That was my job.   I can promise ...
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