I GUESS YOU'D SAY HE WASN'T MY CANDIDATE

A friend asked me Do I ever dance with my cat? Of course, I answered without hesitation. But then I had to think. The only time I could recall concretely was New Year's Eve 2001. I had succumbed to the flu that was going around New York that depressed-psyche, depressed-immunity winter, and I was home alone in flannel pajamas. When midnight struck I celebrated by singing about the happiest thing I could think of: waltzing with the cat on her hind paws, I danced around the living room chanting, "No more Giuliani! No more Giuliani!"