Posted on 09/21/2010 5:11:57 PM PDT by ventanax5
In February 1982, in the middle of my freshman year, I was invited to a party by the most glamorous sophomore I had ever met (now one of my closest friends), and I was wildly excited about it. It was in that perfect proportion for a social event: a third of the people were people I actually knew; a third were people I had seen around and wished I knew; a third were people I had never seen because they inhabited a stratosphere too exalted to have been visible to me, some of them even juniors and seniors. The party was in a dorm room in Pierson. Spandau Ballet, Pat Benatar, the Human League singing Dont You Want Me Baby, which nowadays feel to me as sweetly nostalgic as Dixie, were at that time fresh as the morning dew. People were dressed in clothing that might in 2010 be coming back into fashion for the fifth time, but that was then just coming into fashion for the first timeeven though much of it had been cleverly selected at the Salvation Army. In those days, the drinking age was still 18, and so there were drinks, and there were some people doing cocaine in the bathroom, because it was, after all, the 1980s. I would not have been more thrilled and dazzled to have been invited to the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer one year earlier. People were witty and funny, having a truly good time, dancing well, laughing.
(Excerpt) Read more at yalealumnimagazine.com ...
You make a good point. I have often wondered about this myself. To some extent I think therapy is very negative as instead of moving on, you are forced to keep looking at the past and analyzing it in order to understand why you are the way you are. I am not so sure this is good. The Bible is clear about not looking back.
You must not read much (or at least not read anything written in the 19th century).
I am sorry that public schoold made you think that shorter sentences are normal. Until recently, American readers were able to maintain focus while reading longer expressions of thought.
You must be having a bad day. At least I hope that’s your excuse. How about keeping the snotty comments to yourself?
It wasn’t long sentences that was being commented on. In case you can’t read it was long paragraphs. Maybe you were the one public schooled.
I suppose you’ve never heard of a run-on sentence.
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