So you'd think I could say I knew her father fairly well. At least I thought I did until last night at dinner when I was telling Augusta about the man seated next to me on the plane yesterday. That man was reading a company directive on using Twitter to market your skills, More than being a professional, it is important that you use Twitter to promote that you are an expert. The man was in his late 60s and from the look on his face, I was pretty sure he wasn't envisioning his followers.
Augusta understood what I was saying: Oh, it's terrible for older people. Poor Dad let some kid at Radio Shack talk him into buying an IPod Nano so that he could listen to Rush, and Dad cannot at all figure out how to work that thing.
I was shocked. Your father likes Rush?
Of course he likes Rush.
I never knew that. How could I not have known that?
She looked at me. I looked at her.
And then I went there: What's his favorite song?
She looked at me. I looked at her. A lighting bolt of simultaneous recognition shot through our eyes.
LIMBAUGH, she laughed, Rush Limbaugh.
The champagne that I was sipping shot through my nose at that.
Good morning, from Vermont.
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3 comments:
thats an outstanding story.
i still dont believe in vermont.
CLASSIC! =]
This post demands a comment from a vitriolic conservative! You're on vacation, so I'll keep it to myself.
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