The Breakfast Table

Sorry, Dear


I was touched by your closing remark, “I wish I could have placed the paper back on the driveway, and gone on with my little life.” I’m sure your area of Nova Scotia will forever hold a soupcon of sadness, for which I am sorry.

I, too, had a connection to that crash, though somewhat distant. I had met Jonathan Mann on different occasions at AIDS-connected functions. Harvard will be at half-mast today, I am sure.

Today is rather dense with news nuggets. To cheer you a little, I’ll start with that kid who’s hitting all the home runs. I do not give a rat’s ass about baseball, but the excellence of the achievement has to be admired. I am, alas, known to chums as a sports-challenged dumbbell. When I saw my first hockey game (Blackhawks, 1972) I actually said to my date after watching for a while, “My God, they’re on skates.”

Under the category of They’re Baaaack, the newly approved “emergency contraceptive kit” for those uh-oh occasions is, natch, being slammed by the government-please-stay-out-of-my-business but yes-do-come-into-my-bedroom crowd. American Life League president Judi Brown has named it “the do-it-yourself abortion kit.” Sometimes I want to smack those people. Their interest in “life” seems only to be conception to birth, then everybody’s on their own. The name of the product, by the way, is PREVEN. What do you think Andre’s gonna’ say?