in praise of knees
Meet my dearest friends, even if they are a bit unreliable.
I tried to flush Schaeffer's sweater down the toilet.
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 ...
