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Dec. 6, CORAL GABLES, FL. In
a store in a Miami suburb last night hunting a humidifier. Can't find one.
Can't talk either. Write "Humidifier?" on a card and, while
hacking, coughing, and sniffling, hold card up to sales associate. He
looks at it, looks at me, then with great exaggeration, silently mouths,
'On aisle 10,' like I'm deaf as well as sick. Don't dare laugh; laughing
equals coughing. Thanks to said humidifier, old-fashioned camomile tea,
modern pharmacology, and my college friend Brett, who puts me to bed in
his guest room all day, tonight I am able to croak out an abbreviated
reading with a little help from volunteers among the dozen people
gathered. They read the loud parts. Rosie throws in a few barks. It's
group performance art. Bravo, bravo!
Three more events and one
interview to go ...
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