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Friday, September 19, 2014


       "For Sale: Edward Albee's non-slip, water-resistant shower stool".
  You won't be seeing that on Craigslist.  For now it sits forlorn, hidden in a far corner of our yard.

I knew America's greatest living playwright had a winter home somewhere in Coconut Grove.  When I stopped by a garage sale last fall I heard a man mention, "I built Albee's fence next door."  The conversation revealed that that the 86-year-old writer had sold the modest house and new owners were moving in.
     On a bike ride two days later Francesca and I happened to pass the Albee house.  Its trash pile included this sad piece of furniture we all hope we'll never need. I exclaimed, "It's Edward Albee's shower stool!" to which my wife added, "It's ugly, leave it alone".

   "It's his stool.  We just can't leave it there" I added. 
   We finally agreed that I would tote it home and store it where she'd never see it.
   I use it every now and then imagining that sitting where Albee sat might inspire me to be a better writer.  
   It hasn't happened and Francesca's right, it is is not an object of great beauty.
   I'll eventually do what the previous owner would probably want.  I'll give it to someone who'd enjoy a nice, warm shower sitting next to the spirit of Edward Albee.
    Could that be you?

1 comment:

  1. Oh gosh. that is all nothing else. sometimes words just fail me.
    Have I mentioned before what a sensible woman your wife is.