Aug 6, 2002

Since my father is out of commission, I am so thankful to have a friend like Jim Hall. I’ve know him since 1995 -oy!- when I worked in Akron, Ohio -double oy!- and have shared so many good times with him. He has seen pretty much every mood of mine that I can pull out of my hat and still talks to me! Bee-zarre! I love that he is 52 years old and so young at heart despite the fact that his bedtime is 10:00.

He, the ye olde Amish boy that he is, has crossed into the 21st Century and gotten himself that new-fangled cable channel called HBO. I’m so happy for him, but it’s really a selfish pleasure for me. See, now when I call him we can chat about Sex and the City and Six Feet Under rather than Caeser’s Gallic War and The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire Vols. 1, 2 & 3. Not that Constantine the Great and the Byzantine Empire aren’t just fabulous, zzz…zzz…ZZZ…ZZZ…zzz…zzz, oh, I’m sorry, did I just fall asleep? Silly me. Anyway, Jim is the best!