Ok, first a funny story, and then some bad news that you already knew.
Several years ago at an annual conference called "The Dickens Universe," we remembered one of us who had died the previous year. A story was told that gave us a picture of what kind of person she was. She attended as part of Elder Hostel, and despite her age and physical fraility, she participated in the activities from morning (8:30) to the evening movie that began at 9:15. One night, as she was taking her place in the lecture hall, she tripped on a stair and down she went, opening a gash on her head.
Paramedics were called. She felt fine, but the paramedics asked her the questions that they must ask people when they hit their head.
Do you know where you are?
"I'm at Dickens!"
"Do you know what day it is? "
"The First Day of the Universe!"
"Do you know who the President is? "
"He's not my President!"
Rolling Stone has the whole story. He's not our president.
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