I will. I am looking at you, Donald. Please look at me.”“Your father won’t let me, Ann.”“Donald, my father is not me. I am not my father.”...��Yes, yes, yes, the great Danny Thomas.”He’d waited for her to launch him. He pounced:“How does he introduce me, Ann? Let’s see,,, oh yeah, I got it:“And Ann’s power mower, (paramour) Donald Hollinger, a beat writer for a great metropolitan newspaper.”She used to have to stifle a laugh at such introduction, no more, it had been a while. And he wouldn’t stop,. Ten minutes later she was standing in the lobby of her favorite after work hangout waiting to check her coat. She stopped in the restroom to freshen up before making her way towards the long bar at the far end of the room. The soft music playing in the background was already having a soothing effect on her psyche. When she neared the bar the regular hostess, Fran, smiled broadly and offered, "Good evening, Mz. Watkins, and what may we do for you this evening?" She hadn't realized how really. More

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