Three years ago on this day my godson was born in New York. It was a sweltering day. Shortly before his birth (between 4 and 4:30 PM local time) I left New York for Philadelphia where I was going to give a reading.
My fiancée Elayne escorted me to Philadelphia.
Nobody showed up for the reading but that’s a minor detail.
While Mayu was busy enduring the first days of his life I was still busy finishing my novel The Jewish Messiah; the ugly leftovers of a relationship that had lasted way too long were still causing me troubles, but all this means nothing compared to him making a beautiful entrance.
Today Mayu is in Bolivia. His mother bought him a huge tart. And I bought him a t-shirt with the text: ‘Stop the war.’ I’m not a pacifist. But he could be one, for a change.