“Albert,” I said, “I wrote up a sketch from our conversation about your experiences during the 70s. I don’t want to overstep, but if you’re okay with it, I’ll type it up and email it to you so you can take a look at it.”
Albert laughed, “I might I steal it.”
“That’d be great – you need to write that memoir”
Patricia asked, “What are you two talking about? I missed that.”
Albert said, “It was about my week-end hippie period.”
Albert had been very involved in the Human Potential Movement. He told us some great stories that would make a wonderful follow-up to his first memoir, A Brooklyn Odyssey: Travails and Joys of a Boy’s Early Life. “Albert, that period was notorious for sex, drugs and rock and roll,” I teased.
“I didn’t do drugs and I didn’t like rock and roll,” Albert said.
Patricia said, “That only leaves one thing, you rascal.”
Albert said, “I am an errant Jew. That’s worse than an Irishman. You’re Irish aren’t you, Pat, with a name like Coyle?”
“Yes I am. ”
Patricia said, “My maiden name was very Irish.”
Albert leaned in close and whispered to her, ” You are B and B”.
Patricia asked, “B&B, what’s that?”
“Bright and beautiful.” .
Patricia murmured, ” Sure and begoora, he may be Jewish, but he sure knows how to speak the blarney.”
Albert liked the draft I wrote about his experiences, and said he plans to use it. I hope to see it in his next memoir. Sometimes, the best gift a writer can give is an appreciative kick in the pants when there’s a project worth pursuing.