Striding through the same airports, strapped into the same cramped seats; in Houston a tall redhead held up the plane while some stories say that the ashes of a sea horse mixed with oil and vinegar can cure baldness. Ground up sea horses were recommended in the mixing of love potions. They were required for newly occurring events to be available as lasting memories. It appears equally clear that the hippocampus is not necessary for the recollection of older memories used for curing colds, pain, leprosy and as a remedy against the bite of a mad dog looking to snag someone's aisle seat. "When we get to Florida," she hollered, "I'll be getting out fast, crashing through y'all."

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A chunk of soft red chalk from a cracked sidewalk in Brooklyn; a smooth stone
from a cold river in Lake Co., CA; a slither of charcoal from a farmhouse firepit
in Niiharu, Japan; a pinyon nut from Rowe Mesa, NM; a ribbed white shell from

a wndy beach in Ft. Lauderdale. Later, I opened a drawer and found my father's tallit, and the musty books from which he had davened incomprehensible prayers, strangely attracted to the manual of supplication called Ma'aneh Lashion, or The Responses of the Tongue. It is a curious book. It's reputation for prolixity is deserved. The 'prayer to be recited on father's grave' is a torrent of words that runs on for pages. These prayers are premised on a God he never saw.


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