
Sunday is my birthday, 72 years’ burdening the earth, and you’re all invited to my party. Our apartment isn’t suitable, so I’m constructing an imaginary house with a big back porch and a porch swing (gee, that picture looks like Grandpa’s porch! Just exactly like it!), horseshoe pits in the yard, folding tables for Monopoly games–the works. It’ll all be ready by Sunday morning.
There’ll be beer, cigars, wine, soft drinks, fruit punch; cake, donuts, crabcakes; and I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of you showed up with the means of making music for us. (You know who you are!) Hamburgers, hot dogs, spare ribs. I am prepared to spend however much imaginary money it takes to make this imaginary party a success.
If we put our minds to it and all work together, we just might look like a Grandma Moses painting.
So who’s gonna be there? Everyone’s invited.
Now excuse me while I set some lawn chairs under the catalpa tree…
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