Born in November 1956.
My earliest memories predate my sister's birth in October 1959. I remember being snatched back from the edge of the canal that was across the street from our house, and fiercely scolded. And to this day the smell of drywall brings me back to a visit to our new house under construction.
I remember my father taking me to the beach to see the unusually strong surf crashing, because of the hurricane that was on its way. This was Long Island, and my best guess is it was Hurricane Donna in 1960.
I also remember seeing Dr. No at the drive-in (I slept through most of it on the back seat); that would be summer 1963.
And of course the Kennedy assassination. I was in second grade. It was lunch recess, and the rumor spread on the playground that the president had been shot. I thought it was a lie until we were sent home early from school and I found my mother at home in tears.
When does a yellow Volkswagen became a red herring?
When the smell distracts you.
Very nice! And it works for the comments, too. Less squinting all around. Thanks!
Found another one this morning in an article on "The DaVinci Code." A preacher would like to "ring the author's neck."
My favorite was on the evening news. The story was about a prison escape, and the graphic over the newscaster's shoulder showed bars and the phrase, "ON THE LAMB."
I kid you not.
MORE: What would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get after the Devil?
ROPER: I'd cut down every law in England to do that!
MORE: Oh? And when the last law was down, and the Devil turned round on you--where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat? This country's planted thick with laws from coast to coast--man's laws, not God's--and if you cut them down--and you're just the man to do it--d'you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? Yes, I'd give the Devil benefit of law, for my own safety's sake.
--Robert Bolt, A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS
I've had good luck with pachysandra under my maple tree. It fills in very slowly, though.
Chocolate espresso beans are my vice of the moment.
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I'm surprised no one recommended Tolkien!
Some other suggestions:
Le Guin - The Disposessed
Wright - Islandia
Gorodischer - Kalpa Imperial (translated by Le Guin)
Mirlees - Lud-in-the-Mist
Finney - Time and Again
McHugh - China Mountain Zhang
But I agree with the advice above--pick up an anthology of award-winning short stories, and track down books by the authors whose stories you liked best.
New York songs: Nathan Lane singing "The King of Old Broadway" from The Producers comes to mind. Also from the same play, Matthew Broderick singing:
I wanna be a producer,
with a hit show on Broadway.
I wanna be a producer
lunch at Sardi's every day...
Also, has anyone mentioned Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue?" That's always sounded like New York to me.
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