i can't really sing, so

$1 to get in! // this gets you entry, PLUS one raffle ticket // the show is at apartment 507 Join us for a night of dancing, music and fun. We'll be selling raffle tickets and drinks, all proceeds go towards Gigantic! Raffle tickets are $1 each. You can bring your own drinks, but ours will be fancier. Come hear four amazing bands for whatever you can manage to donate to our cause: Print is Not Dead. Doors at 8; Music at 9. The earlier you get there, the more chances you have to win a prize from our raffle! And the longer you stay, the more fun you'll have-- guaranteed.

I remember the plane ride back. I remember him, a fellow fan who was in my History of Photography class, and an unfurled copy of the Philadelphia Inquirer. We sat there, in unity and silence, and read everything we had seen the night before, every devastating sentence, every word that acquiesced defeat. I remember the speechlessness we shared waiting for our plane to arrive, so that we could board, so that we could fly back to Boston. The plane ride always went so quickly, shot you from Philly to Boston in a good nap's worth of time. It was the transition, the bag check, security check, all that getting to the waiting and then the waiting itself, that was the worst. And Dave and I sat there, sharing that newspaper, shaking our heads, knowing that was all the other expected. In 2005, the Philadelphia Eagles lost the Superbowl to the New England Patriots. I had flown home to watch the game with my Dad at his local South Jersey bar. We went to Antoinetta’s around the corner from

Dear Mr. Salinger, I assume you don't have the internet, though I am unsure why I am so near to certain that you would not. If I were to hermit myself away in New Hampshire for decades, I think I would still like to subscribe to the New York Times , The Believer and, well, the internet. But my seclusion habits and yours perhaps differ. You were born in a time before the internet, before The Believer. The New York Times has been around, though, since 1851, so. Perhaps I have already lost your attention, Mr. Salinger, talking about myself and technology. Allow me to continue. I first read all four of your published books when I was a senior in high school. I started with Franny & Zooey , after my friend Alex threw me a copy (literally) while digging through his parents old books from their college days, giving me his opinion on each of them. He had two copies of Franny & Zooey , chucked me a copy and said "read this." I don't take everyone's "read this