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Memory fail

I remember coming back from my father's funeral to an excited phone call from a friend: "Did you see The Nation this week? You're singled out in a review."

My memory is twofold: sad that by the time I was able to turn my attention away from my dad & to this nice news, it was anticlimactic; and that it was in a review of Andrei Codrescu's anthology Up Late.

The former still holds although it's the faintest breeze of a feeling 30 years later.

The latter was plain incorrect. The review was of zines & I was mentioned for something I published in Baseball Diary. How long have I had that wrong? I wonder. Was there a later Stuart Klawans review of Up Late where he did mention me? Maybe I'll find it as I continue to browse through the infinity of folders in my office.
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