I went and saw you perform Mozart’s requiem. You were a goddess. You may have been in the back, but your voice stood out like the pope in a brothel. I think I may have also seen you in the opening day parade in the back of a car. Unlike JFK, you finished the parade. At least I think so I didn’t hear anything on the news. You waved at me and smiled. It was breathtaking. Let me know what color my socks were so I know it’s you. I’d be keen to meet.