For a starter — oh, my incredible English teacher, Mrs. Goldman at Riverdale JHS 141, oh-so-secretly invited me to help out at school, one hour early, so, that with the the dawn’s early light, I could secretly help her mark my classmates’ essays… No, maybe it was Miss Rau in ninth grade. (Your guess is as good as mine!) I was never a hard grader — besides, everyone in our class was so smart to begin with — and Miss Rau was forever conscientiously looking over my shoulder to be sure I didn’t give my friends any special benefits. Longtime cohorts like Peter (Dr....

Such a pretty face with almost perfect blonde braids past her shoulders and blue eyes that disclosed her intelligence immediately. Self-contained to the max, or call it polite if you prefer — she listened quietly as I chatted with her grandmother about how wonderful tankinis were, pointing out that bikinis were rapidly becoming endangered species. Back when I turned 30, I’d stopped wearing bikinis  — I knew it was time to step up to a new decade, and my hair was cut to a just above the shoulders bob and my middle part was moved to the left. Now I’ll tell you all about my new...

October 1980, the usual —  every Saturday the same. Quick breakfast, pretty stroll over to the New York Society Library, where Philip Roth and Barbara Tuchman wrote, too, and where I started digesting Pythagorean Numerology.* Then off to Madison Avenue for a burger and a bit of sight-seeing. After taking a very thorough workshop on how to survive as a single woman in NYC, I had thought I learned most of the tricks — since I sometimes traveled alone at night,  I understood how important it was to be careful. 1. Walk like a man, cocksure, no invitations to strangers. 2.  When alone on an...

“No secrets between us,” he whispered. “Wait a second … none at all?” “Non, ma cherie.”  His how shall we say French accent was Collegiate perfect. “But if this is going to be a Significant Romance…. shouldn’t there be a little left unsaid?” I said practicing my coy Music and Art tongue. “Significant — where did you ever get the notion this would ever be significant,” he asked me, after chasing me for four months  — spurned opera tickets and one or two rejected motorcyle ride invitations. Singing the theme from...