Monday, March 20, 2017
Except for the inevitable humiliation handed out on the driveway basketball court, I always enjoyed stopping by the Suits house.
Mrs. Suits always had a gleam in her eye, as if to say I won't ask what you boys are up to, I already know.
On the way to a party one night, I stopped at the Suits' first and Mrs. Suits suggested I wear a jacket to that particular event. She lent me one of Big Bill's (no disrespect). I was proud to return it in one piece, after a relatively short time. In the 70's, smoking was permitted in cars, planes, restaurants, and parties and oblivious to me, the jacket smelled like an ash tray. Mrs. Suits, in a motherly way, let me know that it was customary to have a borrowed item cleaned prior to returning it.
Sorry about that Mrs. Suits. Thank you for caring enough to tell me. I will miss you.
My condolences to family and friends.
Mark Sieron
