Andrew J. Lederer

some "hoodies" (not actually wearing hoodies as far as I can remember) were starting a fracas, supposedly in the name of "East Africa", and Elise suddenly became a crime-fighting hero, telling the bus driver to wait while she ran to the nearest police station (with me panting behind, semi-cluelessly) to get help. A slow-moving, seemingly groggy, lone police officer at the Kentish Town station seemed fairly uninterested and when we got back to where we'd been the bus was gone.

Fortunately, another one came right away and we quickly got on, followed, of course, by the very thugs we had reported. (They'd apparently been ejected from the previous bus, enabling that bus's driver to abandon us to danger and move on.)

Well, Elise leapt to her feet once again, alerting the new bus driver to the danger posed by these villains from our previous carriage and he stood his ground against them, laughing as one told him he could easily be shot and killed.

Then today, barely recovered from her heroism, Elise straightened out my spine, making me, she says, considerably taller and causing my belly to sound less like a drum when pounded on.

She is a true American hero. (British-variety.)

And I have not let my end of the friendship flag, manfully downloading illegally-available episodes of "House" for us to watch, a habit I will maintain until the writers are fairly compensated for web runs of their work (and beyond). Her inspiration will continue to move me into new arenas of indolence and chicanery.

I salute her.