(Written April 2008)

My mother has been carrying The Times article neatly folded with my picture gazing at her from the basket of her walker. One of the other residents, Louise, is the mother of our friend, Liz.

I walked into the dining room and Louise said, “Congratulations on selling your screenplay.”

I explained that it was a little more complicated than selling a screenplay. I knew Louise was up to the task since she had been a literary editor, so I got the article from my mother’s walker and gave it to Louise to read.

So, Louise read the Times article and then said, “Well, he caught almost everything. When I saw Moose Murders….”

I yelped. And made her repeat the sentence: “Yes, of course I saw “Moose Murders. I saw everything in the theater then. And he did miss one thing. Throughout the whole evening, audience members kept turning around to look at the people seated behind them to see if they knew what was going on. The people we looked at generally just shrugged. No one knew.”

Louise came over to congratulate my mother. She said, “I read the article. I think it’s wonderful what that your son produced that terrible play.”

My mother graciously replied, “No, the play was wonderful. My son only produces wonderful plays.”