So I went to the last sessions, and then said goodbye to everybody, and then off to lunch with the fabulous Miss SusanSinclair. Since then, I’ve been drinking mint juleps in the Peabody lobby and pretending I’m Truman Capote. (More Grass Harp Capote than In Cold Blood Capote. Today, anyway.)

Who knows what the evening holds? Dunno, but I bet there will be barbecue.

*The title refers to a fabulous typo once committed by a writer I’m close to. It involved a misprint of the word gentile for genteel, as in The plantation provides gentile surroundings. Not entirely incorrect, but still...