Finally, a letter that sounds familiar. It sounds like me. I'm not depressed and needy (although that is sometimes me). I'm not promising things I can't deliver (something I tried and have mostly succeeded in giving up over the years). There is no desperation or preaching or pleading. There is just me, telling a story about how I missed a zoology mid-term. One whole page of various all-nighters (no party, this is exam time in the early 60's). I am listening to Ramsey Lewis playing "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child," which I say "gives me chills." As I recall, it did give me chills, and I am filled with a wish to hear it once again. It is on an album (Down to Earth) borrowed from my old friend Merrilie Johnson, who came to my first wedding (not to Larry, who I didn't marry, of course, but to this other, very nice but not quite right guy who, when he asked me to marry him, I said "let's do it quick before I change my mind"). Merrilie gave me a funereal condolences card as a wedding gift. There may have been a toaster or somethiing similar involved, but the card is the only gift I remember. From anybody.