All in all it was not-too-bad of a drive back to New York. Really, we were driving first to Newark to drop my brother off at the airport, then back to Astoria. I was glad to have my dad drive us back last night because it meant that we got a trip to Nick’s in Forest Hills for arguably the best pizza you’ve probably never bothered to try. My dad, long skeptical of my taste in restaurants, has experienced a small renaissance in faith with me, after we took him and my mother to Nick’s then Agnanti’s (best Greek in Astoria) on two consecutive visits. My daughterly need for approval is fat and contented.
We polished off the end of Izzard’s Definite Article (“Dear Paul bracket saint apparently, just fuck off! Love and kisses, the Corinthians.”), which my dad hadn’t seen, and I went to bed while Stuart lovingly futzed with installing Tiger on his iMac, to prepare it to receive his glorious new iPod. Oh, we are such an iFamily.
But possibly one of my favourite moments of yesterday happened in the car proper. My father and I had been goodnaturedly arguing about China, their human-rights record, and the question of US-China relations as it pertains to that record. We had some Cuba and Russia thrown in as examples when Stuart woke up and the following exchange happened.
Me: “I’m willing to negotiate with you on the point of market forces being used to drive information and openness into China’s economy, but I’m still uncomfortable with the adoption market question.”
Stuart, just waking up: “Whoa. What’d I miss? How long have I been asleep?”
Oh, I also enjoyed my hot cocoa from the Starbucks at exit 88. So, all in all, not a bad day.

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