So that’s a sousaphone, she said. So what’s a sousaphone?, I asked. This sousaphone, she said. Yeah, I said, that’s a sousaphone. That’s what I said, she said. So why did you ask? I didn’t ask, she said, I just said so that’s a sousaphone. She flipped a page in the magazine, I read a Trump tweet. So what’s pozole, she asked. Hominy, I said. How many what, she asked. Sousaphones, I said. So what’s pozole? It’s hominy, I said. As in corn. Dried corn. It sure is, she said.
Beckett without the scraggly neck and dyspeptic facial expression.
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I just remembered we were supposed to do an interview. Wow, that fell into some deep dark hole in my short term memory, apparently.
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