from Aunt Sylvia, my father's big sister, who fast approaches 95. Sylvia, you'll recall, was precluded from submitting stories to her local newspaper because the arthritis in her hands is so severe she can barely move her fingers. Notably, arthritis hasn't dampened her spirits nor her sense of humor.
Thrilled by the idea of blogging, Sylvia asks me to post the below, on her behalf, something else she recalls from her girlhood:
"During the Depression, there was a song called '10 cents a dance. That's all they pay me.' Today, with inflation, it is $4,300 a night. Pity the poor who were not able to accompany Spitzer."