Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Not even a one Mississippi

Every morning in carpool, I read.  Most mornings.  When it's quiet.  Just NPR, another rider and the driver.  Today, not even the moody, heart-wrenching story of a Holocaust survivor could penetrate the two motor-mouths in the front seat.  Obviously, these were friends riding into the city together, enjoying a nice chat.  I was stunned by their ability to fill every second with the sound of their voices.  Not even a one Mississippi could squeeze itself between their words.  Chatty Cathy's plastic mandible would be left gaping by their too-early-in-the-morning gab fest.  Topics included:  the benefits of window tinting, cremains and cremains delivery, real estate, marriage and heroin overdose.  Ladies, I am duly impressed.

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