Andrew Paul Grell is, at 59, an emerging writer. He has always used writing as part of his advocacy for the alternative transportation and energy components of environmentalism, steadfastly chipping away until his editorial in Town and Village and his hounding of a City Council candidate combined to finally legalize electric bikes in New York City. He is now trying to develop a little style and polish and is diving into the literary pit with the rest of the vipers.
To tell the story of ourselves to ourselves.To play God.To make the story come out the way we would rather have it rather than the way it was.To have something you can do in your underwear and without having to shave.To stop the voices in our heads.
The game usually goes like this. I window-shop one of the 30 or 40 Japanese eateries, ranging from street-squid to MomoFuko, always jammed, to the high-end sushi places where they shave the wasabi onto your plate.
Obviously, this had happened before. Tojo had a score of puffer fish in a thermal bag in 45 seconds and refused payment of any kind. Too bad, under other circumstances, it might have been fun to take something out in trade with the old salt.
You have each made it past kindergarten and first grade and are safe in second grade. I’m passing out some vouchers, if you come back within the next three weeks, you may bypass Sid, if you like, and start from here in the break room