... at work, while I was in the middle of a couple of emergencies, one
disaster, and an approaching deadline.

VB:  Dad, uh, I've got a problem.

me:  [thinking: out of money; girl trouble; sister trouble; wants to extend
curfew; wants to get big screen TV, wants me to pay for trek-adventure
through Burma] Uh, kind of busy here, Mom home?

VB   No.

me:  Well, sure, how can I help?

VB:  Well, I've got a research question.

me:  Yeah, well, how can I help?

VB:   Well, it's about ...[me wondering what the hell is coming] ... Carl
Sandburg.

me:   [scrambling/thinking:  Sandburg, Sandburg, poet, American, did he read
at JFK's inauguration???, no that was Frost, Sandburg, Sandburg, oh yeah, I
remember Sandburg, midwestern, wanted to create new American voice]: Umm,
well, tell me ... [someone else yelling at me, messenger at door, editor on
the other line cussing] ... what about Sandburg, exactly?

VB:  Well, do you think, do you know, I mean, I've been wondering ....

me:  [thinking:  God, I wish I had paid attention when we read Sandburg.
what now?
he was gay? he was a communist?  he invented free verse?  he invented the
internet?]

VB:  ... I've been wondering, it's sort of alluded to, but I can't find it
really written down  -  Dad, do you think Sandburg ... was the father of the
beat poets?

Love to everyone,  Christopher

PS to Michael:  This is one of those moments you want to bronze and keep in
your pocket.