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The man I love

Johnny in Sara Delano Roosevelt Park a few days ago. 

I've known & loved Johnny way more than half my life. In my book about him, My Marriage A to Z, I wrote this: 


Quotidian. At a certain point, the anecdotes and highlights run out. It's the dailiness—the quotidian—that matters. It's recognizing his tread on the steps of our building, knowing his exact look in some specific situation. Once I called from the other room, "Can I read you something?"

He said, "Is it the caption of a New Yorker cartoon?"

"Oh, do I have a special voice for that?"

So it seems. His knowing this one exact thing about me seems to be as important as anything else in our whole life.


That was years ago. The other day, he said, Oh wow! I said, is there a basketball game. And there was. It seems he has a special voice for that, one I recognize. It pleased me to be heard by him & just as much to hear him. This is our life. 

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