April 28, 2018

Washington, DC. June, 1989


Dali and I had decided to travel to DC to visit our friend Charles, knowing that because of his health it would probably be the last time we’d see him. Dali did not sit well with the idea of illness, ever, and she kept insisting that Charles walk with us everywhere. Charles, a master thinker, knowing how hard it would be to say no to her, deflected the situation by telephoning a friend with an antique Cadillac convertible, urging him to swing by and take us for a ride. A brilliant idea, for as you can see here, Dali took to the luxury of the back seat with an easy sense of entitlement and satisfaction. I think we went for Chinese food in the capital’s Chinatown (which, owing to its small size, Dali kept calling Chinablock.) The meal was unmemorable, but I do remember lots of laughs. And I remember the pleasure of being with my two remarkable friends, now both gone.

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