Open Letter to a Blogger

If you are tired of writing about yourself, try writing about someone else.  

Is it such a great leap to write about the old woman who lived across the street, the one you sat with at her kitchen table when you first moved in, where you shared a can of Budweizer and talked about cookies and children, the old woman who you had thought had only one son (who she implied was not easy to get along with), but turned out to be two, coming and going in the night, identical twins who you never talked to until the day before you were moving out and met one on the curb to discuss the old radio cabinet?  

He wanted the guts of the thing.

He collected radio tubes and had a recording studio in the basement.

You asked how his mother felt about that.

He implied that his mother was not an easy person to get along with.  

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