Thirty-five Years Ago

Thirty-five years ago, a parish-
ioner and local physician roared
at the New Yorker cartoons. Seven
years, post-college educated and
I still felt so empty of anything
clever, sophisticated and erudite
in response. I just smiled knowing-
ly (I hoped) and chuckled with a
“but, of course” uttered in French:
mais bien sûr. Thirty-five years
later, a really good friend and
retired minister roars at the New
Yorker cartoons and tells me
about them each week when we
meet for coffee. Knowing he
doesn’t speak Spanish, and that
I still don’t understand the New
Yorker cartoons, I just nod with
a knowing smile of agreement
and say, O, senor, no hablo Ingles
and then laugh heartily. I think
he understands my appreciat-
ion of those incredibly soph-
isticated cartoons.


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