In minor celebration (or perhaps tepid protest; it’s hard to tell any more) I am working from home.
On the den’s muted TV a naked Jane Fonda cavorts around a seaside meadow with her horse. It says more than I wish that every time Jane turns her back to me I look for a tramp stamp.
The camera suddenly frames her lovely face and Jane smiles for me. Happy Birthday! 3
She’s not Monroe, but then…I’m not Kennedy.
Funny. All these years and I’m still the same. 4