It’s quite the concept, really. It’s almost like a writer covering a story. I didn’t read all of Pigone’s story, or much of it at all, but it’s still intriguing that it’s out there, even if it is a travesty, as you say.

Thanks for posting this.

—I am sure by now most of us have had an opportunity to speak with Jack – those little purple pamphlets in everyones pockets are witness to that. -laughter- and if you get the chance, ladies, I recommend a chat with Nancy Wilson, who, I have happily learned, knows needle-point like none. Folks I give you West Kansas needlepoint champion three years running – Nancy Wilson. -cheers- And sitting inbetween them -long pause- supported by Jack and Nancy’s loving, unselfish, tender, devotion, a beautiful woman – her presence here tonight bearing witness to life’s flickering, fragile, but imperishable flame. Jill, I know you can hear me. I know what you are feeling in your heart at this moment: I sense the pride and joy you are now feeling for your daughter. Jill we love you. -tears&applause-

Garett helped her out of the cab. He held her hand lightly as when they had danced at the reception. She had felt proud and happy then – and loved. This touch of his body, aroused her once again. She pressed his arm closely to her side. They were nearing their freedom, approaching the end of their escape tunnel – from the street she could see the bed light in their room; fleeing from all the Burger Bobs, and religious fanatics and other hypocrites and people in general without wisdom, courage or taste…so many genuinely unattractive people. As they stood at the hotel door, she rubbed his cheek with her nose.