Welcome BackWe're remodeling. It will take another day or two to complete. Until then, below is the intro to a new story -- click "continue reading" for the full story or check above for what has been updated so far. Thank you.
A Summer Morning
note: I told this story on stage at Under St. Mark’s in NYC last November, and an even shorter version at The People’s Improv Theater. This is the expanded version. This is the first time I’ve put it online.
It was a beautiful summer morning. What was it that got me to go inside a little shop filled with a mix of antiques and junk? I don’t know, but there I was. Once inside the only way through the place was to proceed single file around the perimeter.
There were two ladies ahead of me. I would guess they were in their seventies. The one in front had a cane and she was using it mostly as a pointer, chatting with the lady between us who had a long silver ponytail.
As we got toward the back of the shop we could see, on the floor, in a corner, in a matte and frame, a photograph and an autographed note from Tallulah Bankhead.