I had dinner at my Latin prof and wife's (French prof) house on Saturday. I brought in tow a friend from work--who stuck around after I'd made him view Wheelock's Latin website and subjected him to endless enthuasiatic rhapsody after rhapsody involving The Fifth Noble Truth That is Classical Latin, thus sealing his fate as Person Most Likely To Be Dragged to This Particular Dinner. We came bearing gifts of the non-Trojan horse pony kind for the couples' four-year-old daughter, who was born after I left New College. (If you need four year old girl gift ideas, I suggest standing around the toy aisle at your local department store, and watching other four year old girls. Ponies are a big hit, if you're too lazy to do that, or shop online.)
Dinner was, in contrast to work, absolutely lovely and charming. Being in the company of some of your favorite people in the world is, of course, one of the finer highlights of living, and any conversation where I get to mention Catallus and not have people ask me if that's a new rock band, or something, is a good conversation indeed.
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I remember that like it was yesterday and picking out the toys. You wanted books and I said watch what the other kids were playing with. I remember all of Sarasota and it was good, well maybe not SMH.
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