Here's a funny story:
Early in my new book, I talk about doing Stop the World in stock in New Jersey. And I mention that my then-wife went back to LA for a visit during the beginning of her pregnancy. When I first wrote that section, I wrote that one of the cast members had invited me to her apartment on the Upper West Side (before I knew what that meant - the Upper West Side, I mean) and had made me dinner, and then asked if she could wash my hair (it wasn't dirty, she just liked doing that) - I'd never had anyone wash my hair ever, since I was a baby. I said yes. And the memory of that is so clear that it could have happened yesterday - something about it was just so sensual and amazing - I've never forgotten about it. When Margaret read those pages, it made her uncomfortable for various reasons (nothing else happened that night), and so I removed it, and removing it helped move that part of the book along, and it really needed to.
Yesterday, I get a PM on Facebook from a gal who tells me she was in Stop the World with me and do I remember that she invited me for dinner to her Upper West Side apartment, where she cooked beef stroganoff. I wrote her back and said I didn't really remember the stroganoff part (although isn't it odd that stroganoff became one of only two hot foods that I make for guests), but that I certainly remembered coming to her apartment - then I asked her if SHE remembered the thing I've never forgotten - the hair-washing thing - she wrote back today and said she absolutely did. Isn't that weird??? I told her that if I could find those couple of pages that I'd send them to her, because I write about it very affectionately.
