Having grown up in New York City, occasionally I think he's about to join me, wherever I'm going, and then I realize that he has the most exquisite case of manners I've ever seen. From then on, whenever I leave the table, he stands. He stands to greet me and kisses both my cheeks.
He is wearing only one antique-looking cufflink, engraved beautifully, from a past love. Off come his ray-bans (black lenses replaced with brown) and back are last night's beautiful tortoise-shell glasses. Jacket, and pressed shirt, polka dot handkerchief, sprayed with a Dior scent only available in Paris. He sits in the garden of the Chateau Marmont, waiting for me, writing, of course.
He is everything he has always said he is. From the time that he silently hands me a program after I arrive breathless and late, with a balloon he has drawn on his picture from the program saying, "Hello, Cynthia" to the time we shake hands after agreeing to meet the next day, I am astonished. I look in on them occasionally, and see them, almost like ageless Sims characters from the life-simulation computer game: staring at goldfish, sewing buttons on clothes and walking hand in hand through the tree-lined streets of New York.īy some remarkable coincidence, Simon and I finally meet on Father's Day. He and his daughter have slowly taken on a second life in my mind. Firstly, I am amazed that he remembers that my husband and I live in LA from a long-defunct facebook message, (he has since become so successful that he now has a "page") and secondly I am extremely nervous to meet him in person.
Young and beautiful people need compassion as much as everyone else, maybe more, because no one else thinks they need it.Īlmost halfway through June, I receive a tweet from Simon - 140 characters or less, inviting me to a reading of his at the Soho House in LA. And my immediate thought was, 'I can never send this message.' But then I thought to myself that I was being ridiculous.
0 kommentar(er)
