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Gil Roth of The Virtual Memories Show talks with Charles Bivona about his evolution on Twitter.
It was several years before I joined her Dominican family, when I found myself in the backseat of a bigot.
“I’m no expert,” she reminded me for the second time in the conversation, “but life used to be about what you did for other people.”
It was one of those meetings in which a person comes to you for advice, praises your expertise and accomplishments for the first fifteen minutes, and then contradicts everything you say about your field of expertise for the next forty-five.
Years before my life without you, we were leaving the supermarket we worked for, heading out to look for drinks, to meet women, when you spotted one staggering to her knees outside the adjacent drug store.
At a lecture, presentation, orientation, whatever, quietly speed tapping notes into a word-processing app on my phone.
It was a simple shot—casual, yet dynamic. The reporter would speak his lines while strolling through Zuccotti Park. But Zuccotti Park was not cooperating.
I walked into the NJ Peace Action annual dinner, a notebook in my hand, my head full of activism.
I had the calmest pulse she’d seen all day, she said,
I’m overjoyed. I’m terrified.