Better belated than never, I guess. The population of the Booth on the tenth comprised Jeff, Cindy, Cathy, Lindsay, John T., Don & Ferne, John L., and DQ. The conversations ricocheted around the table with such rapidity that your reporter felt a bit pachcinkoed, but struggled to keep up. Some of the topics touched upon (and I make no assertion to an ordered or exhaustive list) :

  • where stories come from, anyway
  • Ireland, driving therein, wrong-sided
  • theater (oops, “theatre”) in London
  • Kali (the martial art practice, not the Hindu goddess)
  • the dangers of undergoing an MRI while carrying embedded ferrous metals in one’s body
  • longevity
  • bike crashes
  • the perils of excessive cleanliness
  • sleds & toboggans, particularly the famous brand of the former
    • PF Flyer? (nope, sneakers)
    • Radio Flyer? (nope, little red wagons)
    • Flexible Flyer? Aaahhhhh!
  • Ice yachting on Lake Massabesic (and elsewhere, presumably)
  • Hotel Budapest (the Wes Anderson film)
  • Can You Ever Forgive Me? (the film by somebody else)
  • Downhill skiing (and more bike riding)
  • Leo Rosten and The Joys of Yiddish (the book)

After the proper genuflections to the ghosts of Dorothy Parker and George S. Kaufman, we wandered out into the Derry streets, muttering retreats.