I was going to post all about both trips and lots of photos, but I stayed up all night last night and it's catching up with me. Then I was going to scan in a better picture than this, then I was going to at least try to make this picture a little less blurry, but, same story. Also, I was going to post a moving and grateful response to Franklin's tribute to me. But not right now. Gotta sleep.
Q: So why am I just slapping this photo up here despite having fallen short of all my other goals?
A: So that I can feel that I accomplished something in the last forty minutes since I came home & DIDN'T immediately climb into the hot bath & nap I'd promised myself.
Here is probably the best photo of Franklin and myself in our younger years. There are many others, but I have to make sure it's ok with Franklin before I post them. (No, no, you naughty-minded guttersnipes, nothing like that. Worse, actually—they're just photos of us behaving very, very strangely.)
We were on our way to the Lowell House Waltz. We're in Beth B's room, I think (but those two posters were ubiquitous; I included them 'specially). That dance was a lot of fun—a LOT of fun—definitely worth a lot more of a post; maybe later.
All's I'll say now is, little tip: never wear a long-sleeved corduroy dress to perform any strenuous activity.
2 comments:
Sweet Jesus, look at that haircut. No wonder I couldn't get laid.
I'm struck by the enormous glasses on both of us, myself. Ah, the 80s (hey, they were barely over!).
But if memory serves, you got laid a heck of a lot more than most of us, so shut up.
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