The Greatest

The cosmic connection is positively crackling...

Monday night I went to a local bookstore I hold in great contempt _ but nonetheless patronize _ and bought Erika another copy of "The Crucible" for her student teaching work along with a modestly priced collection of Harold Pinter plays.

I came home and read the introduction to the Pinter collection _ text of his acceptance speech for a German theater award in the early '70s. I spent a lot of time flipping the book over to look at the picture of Pinter on the back _ from the same era _ nattily dressed in a dark suit, purple shirt, tie and gray suede shoes. I placed this book on our plant table in the front room next to the couch, so I'll see it whenever I sit down to watch TV _ a totem to ward off laziness.

And now this.

Pinter is one of the greatest of all time. He is one of my heroes. I write this with the utmost joy.