Marjorie,
But T-shirts are loose-fitting garments, n’est-ce pas? And what about those pretty nightgowns we sometimes put Alice in? Perhaps the best tack is just to keep our kids away from open flames (not a bad idea in itself): I’m not aware that we have any lying around the house, except of course on our stove, which will remain off-limits. (And yet also there lurks an uneasy doubt: Are we putting aesthetics, which may amount to little more than snobbery, ahead of safety?)
So, the Post finally found a way into the story of the Conde Nast disaster. It says a lot about the age that the story is no longer what a sap you have to be to live in New York, but that the disaster could prove much worse here in D.C. These are demoralizing times to own property in the District of Columbia.
I didn’t have time to read the Hitler piece, which sounds great, because I had to run out to the Safeway. Our cleaning lady said we need Tide, and…bottled water! Now I know we’re in a tight labor market: All members of our family are perfectly happy with what comes out of the tap, and yet I charged out and got the bottled water. How’s that for a turbocharged economy?
I won’t be filing again till late today, because I’m going with Paul (our neighbor, who like me is spending July figuring out the color of his parachute) to see Saving Private Ryan. I know you were reluctant, given the flying viscera, etc. If it’s not as bad as people say I’ll go see it with you again (assuming I like it).
Off to Omaha Beach,
Tim
