The Liz

I realized that I like Rochester (after years of Ben assuring me that I would) when an old man sold me good salami on a rainy Sunday morning. There was a transvestite who cut ahead of me on line. The old man made clear that he did not approve.

The rest of my posts will have nothing to do with Rochester.

When I was about 13 or 14 years old, I sold radishes at the Public Market in Rochester, New York. Not the "Farmers' Market." No such place.

I'll report occasionally on the Rochester diaspora, the enthusiasms of Wisconsin Avenue, and the thrills of graduate school.

This is the Beginning

I'm writing about the Bills. Others will decide their role soon. Be ready. There is sure to be a good amount of cook talk, history talk, Bob Dylan, and general grousing. And, like I said, a good amount about the Dick Jauron era.

Big things happen on nights like this.