You know, I've been thinking about this piece by Mr. Logan and wondering why Elisabeth Smart and George Barker don't make the grade. Elisabeth and I were good friends and she loved him, she really loved him; one morning, she showed me a whole suitcase of letters (which I didn't read, of course); but, out of that love? One of the most splendorous records of a grandly passionate all-consuming love affair ever written. By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept, a short gorgeous book I still read, still see her signature, still think of those days we used to amble over to Dooney's (on Toronto's Bloor Street West @ Bathurst) and drink strong coffee; and, well, stronger spirits on the part of one of us. I miss her. She was cranky, honest, loving, giving, and all-too-human for her own goodness. So, Logan didn't quite cover the field, IMO. Wonder why, idly. Is this a moral judgment on the scribe's part, if only on a subconscious level? What a sad sad shame.
You know, I've been thinking about this piece by Mr. Logan and wondering why Elisabeth Smart and George Barker don't make the grade. Elisabeth and I were good friends and she loved him, she really loved him; one morning, she showed me a whole suitcase of letters (which I didn't read, of course); but, out of that love? One of the most splendorous records of a grandly passionate all-consuming love affair ever written. By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept, a short gorgeous book I still read, still see her signature, still think of those days we used to amble over to Dooney's (on Toronto's Bloor Street West @ Bathurst) and drink strong coffee; and, well, stronger spirits on the part of one of us. I miss her. She was cranky, honest, loving, giving, and all-too-human for her own goodness. So, Logan didn't quite cover the field, IMO. Wonder why, idly. Is this a moral judgment on the scribe's part, if only on a subconscious level? What a sad sad shame.
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