Linda, I think the reason New Yorkers are taking Garrison's comments so personally is that his is not the usual whine about the city's dirt, crowds, noise, rudeness etc etc. No one would get quite so worked up if it was just about that.

He is saying, in essence, that the people of New York were oblivious to the murder of 3000 people.

That is a vile accusation.

You start.

Did anyone insult your home after it had been attacked?

I hope, that if someone did, you would have the passion to defend it instead of scolding.

How lovely to be you: mommying at the world because you don't like the noise.

Read something else? I read -you-. Now, take your own advice or call yourself a hypocrite.

Everyone needs to grow up and shut up. New Yorkers, mid-westerners, Californians, Oregonians alike -- there are idiots and good people and total jackasses in each place. Each has a flavor and each spends a lot of time decrying people from other cities, states, areas, whatever, perhaps in order to feel good about the place each has chosen to live. I choose northern Baja California -- great climate, I can afford to live at the beach, close to the states, lots of reasons. But I find the rest of the country fascinating and miss theater in New York, greenery and flowers and the food of Baltimore, the openness of New Mexico . . . so would everyone please shut up, read Garrison Keillor without taking everything so damned personally, OR, if you can't stand what he says, read something else.

Going to Grandma’s

We are going to grandmother’s house for the purpose of undoing everything we have established as parents. For two splendid weeks in June, my mother will irrevocably change my children through careful application of techniques designed to systematically spoil children. The three year old will escape this fate.

The Mother Superior, at 71, has said she will take only the elder four children, ages 11, 9, 7, and 5. This is no small favor. The baby will attend the ocean with his mother and I will derive great joy from spoiling him, however briefly, as an only child. This allows equality for everyone concerned.

My 95 year old grandmother will give them all a little pocket change. My mother will directly take them to spend these funds on absolute junk from the dollar store. Since it was produced under duress of quota , they will bring it home in parts and pieces, and little sharp pointy memories of “Our Visit with Grandma” will be scattered throughout the house. Impaled through the foot on a dark night, I will have a little memory all my own.

There will be Spode tea parties, an all inclusive birthday party, dog walking “Moe”, and gardening. It will be grandmothers’ B&B paradise. An unknown commodity of media and culture, consumed shortly after all the homemade food eaten from sterling, will further warp their young, impressionable minds. The children will return home damaged. There may be water activities in the hose outside involving a water sprinkler. Possibly candy. Ich habe angst.

Of course, I will be at the ocean on Rehoboth Beach in denial. The damage will not be evident until later when they request truffles in Beluga caviar. I am sure of this. While at the ocean, I will be grateful for the time alone with the three-year-old, Little Lord Fauntleroy.

We will build sand castles and live in them. We will jump the waves together. Certainly, I have turned the corner. The enormous hunter green umbrella I will schlep to the beach will provide our lovely shade. We will eat steamed crabs and drink golden margaritas. People will see me and assume I am spoiling my grandchild. I will let them think this.

We will seriously consider moving to the ocean. Beautiful winters on the ocean are full of solitude when all the tourists leave. When it is time to leave, I am always torn. We are lovers; the ocean and I belong together. The ocean holds my soul and the heart is somewhere in the middle of the Pacific. I am an island girl. The Ocean is my home.

We are now living in South Central Georgia only three hours to sea and five hours to the Gulf of Mexico. There is a deep satisfaction knowing one may run to beach at will.

Born on the Chesapeake Bay, water IS the necessary element. In fact, the greatest gift of friendship would be bringing one to a large body of water with a beach. Great Lake. Ocean. Sea. The Med. Anywhere. The gift of sand and sea completes everything.

I am buying a lighthouse with a graveyard. I will charge an exorbitant fee for paranormal tours. We will eat from Rosenthal. It will be the rage. When the real ghostly moaning and groaning begins, we will leave and then write a book about our experience. Like cherry pie.

Meanwhile, I will churn five children through college, publish four books and sell the screenplay to Hollywood. Somewhere in there, I will breathe and bathe. Oh, and let us not forget the manicure. One of the tomes will address the irrevocable damage done by relatives on perfectly good children.

Come up to my lighthouse and see me sometime.

Andrea R. Campbell 2244HRS/27MAY09.

Everyone, have a glorious weekend!

Give my regards to Dr.Golumbek while under the Arch.

Love,

S.F.

New York and its inhabitants are beautifully accepting of everyone. I wish you were, too. Were you there and did you see the towers burning? I was, and the outpouring of love and support from people on the streets was something I've never seen before or since. I cannot understand this stupid diatribe, it's just so ignorant and unlike anything I ever would have thought you would have written about any town, anywhere. I feel sorry for you.

New York and its inhabitants are beautifully accepting of everyone. I wish you were, too. Were you there and did you see the towers burning? I was, and the outpouring of love and support from people on the streets was something I've never seen before or since. I cannot understand this stupid diatribe, it's just so ignorant and unlike anything I ever would have thought you would have written about any town, anywhere. I feel sorry for you.