Last evening I was in a cab whipping down the West Side Highway, the wind loud in my ear but the cabbie had NPR on or some radio station like it, I heard that Frank McCourt had died. On another day I might not have known who he was but I was just in Syracuse visiting my mother and on her bedroom table I spied over a book called 'Tis. The New York setting and his venture to chase his dreams grabbed my attention within just a few paragraphs. It was rude to ask my mom if I could barrow it since she hadn't read it yet, but she said 'Take it" and added, "I loved his Angela Ashes'." But my bag was overflowing with other stuff. So I said "Next time."
It was ironic that the moment I got back to NYC and in a cab and let the energy of the city run down my spine, down the West Side Highway I would hear that author of 'Tis had died around the same time I picked up his book yesterday. He was 66 before he published a book. He is my inspiration for today :)