Shuffling Off to Buffalo

 

While I'm a careful driver and, I believe, a good one, when I have to go someplace that I rarely go, I get a little bit nervous about remembering the route, the turns, the landmarks (and the landmarks are far from reliable, I might add), and if it turns out that somebody else has to go there and is willing to drive, I gladly accept and if it's summer, I'll give them a sac of cherry tomatoes as a thank-you. And it doesn't have to be a close friend or family member -- spending three-quarters of an hour or so each way will turn an acquaintance into a pal.

And so it was that I went last week to deliver Christmas In Lancaster to the show and I went with a terrific woman that I'd never even had a conversation with before, though we are Friends on Facebook and have likely crossed paths at guild retreats. She turned out to be a fine driver and excellent conversationalist. When I mentioned that I only ever went to the destination area once a year, i.e., for the show, she replied that she was quite familiar with the area and, in fact, has a tap dancing class there every Monday night! She went on to say, "I have a Master's in . . . " and then her phone rang, leaving me to just know that this fascinating woman has a Master's in Tap Dancing, something that has since filled me with vivid imaginings.

It turns out that her Master's isn't in Tap Dancing 😓, but in something more classic and -- shall we say -- respectable.

Oh, well.

Let it be known, however, that when I write my next novel, there will be a wonderful incidental character who has -- yup -- a Master's in Tap Dancing.