I felt sorry this morning while scanning Times headlines to come across notice of the death of a man who I met only once, but who for many years - many years ago - meant a great deal to me, and as I've been thinking of him throughout the day realize that the fact of him (that is, from my perspective, the ensuing mental image I had of him) proved to be a formative, positive influence in my life. This is so many years ago now, I have had to think back and reconstruct the time frame. Was I in elementary school still? No, I'm thinking middle school, 7th or 8th grade. He was the culture critic in the early 1970s on WCBS-TV, the six o'clock news with Jim Jensen, who was a very affable congenial presence on-air, from my point of view at the time as a young girl. Not to imply otherwise about Mr. Jensen, it's just that my opinion of local newscasts and their anchors has tended to take over the ensuing four decades and creeping corporatism, a decidedly jaded downward turn; but at the time I was an impressionable girl and I liked Mr. Jensen very much and grew to simply adore Leonard Harris. Or perhaps - more my wont - my strong attraction towards him was instantaneous.

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Leonard Harris reviewed plays & movies - Broadway openings and new Hollywood releases. I'd switch on the TV on at six (or perhaps the 4:30 movie had just ended so I'd turn the manual dial from 7 to 2) and would be elated if I saw that he was already seated on the panel of the expansive news anchor desk, at the far end, which meant, of course, that he would have a segment. As I recall he tended to come on after sports but before weather, or visa-versa. Somewhere around the :17 of an hour. Which was good to come to know, because I could - and did - ignore all on the newscast that was not Leonard Harris.

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(It's funny, darling, I'm thinking of you (oh my love)... words are failing me a bit as I sit up here in the aerie clattering away on the keys, sipping pink wine, enjoying the clear light coming through western-facing wood slats, and really enjoying a ceramic pot I purchased this afternoon at a "sample sale" in town, that occurs a couple of times a year, that I love going to, climbing up the stairs of the Warren Street storefront, and encountering the absolutely charming & delightful proprietor of a tabletop-import business. For some reason she has taken a shining to me, and she absolutely lights up when I appear. Honestly, I don't really get it, I don't even know her name, but she seems to have taken this very strong liking to me - that at this point I am absolutely delighted to encounter. And I like her very much too! It's a little crazy, I don't get it, but it's so sweet. I didn't have the car til the afternoon yesterday and finally got down there & climbed the stairs, maybe around two, and she was like oh I missed you I thought you would come in the morning, no I couldn't I didn't have the car... Anyway! I have a big grin & am laughing even as I'm typing this. Her sample sales are wonderful, and it's amazing how much of what is decorative in this house I have picked up over the last six years at her sales. For $1, or $5, or if more than that, not very many dollars, very charming, handcrafted, whimsical (never cloying/cutesy) usually "Made in India" items. So today I went back, because there might have been fresh wares & in a "green" way I wished to return bubble wrap from yesterday's purchases (including a new cake dome to replace the previous one I'd accidentally smashed) and came away with a charming ceramic pot, and on the way home stopped at a big-box store (very unusual for me to do so) and purchased, from their clearance rack, a houseplant that fits the pot perfectly.)

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I will have to continue my memoir of Mr. Harris tomorrow, I am just not quite up for it just now, there's a bit more to it, and I'd like to do my memories of him - that is, of the impression he made on me - better justice, manana. So please consider this as "Part One."

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Good night dear love, hope all's well with you. Very many kisses.