{"id":2564,"date":"2007-11-12T14:50:40","date_gmt":"2007-11-12T18:50:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/?p=2564"},"modified":"2007-11-12T14:51:27","modified_gmt":"2007-11-12T18:51:27","slug":"who-are-you","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/2007\/11\/12\/who-are-you\/","title":{"rendered":"Who Are You?"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/span><\/p>\n

A while ago, a friend gave me a scanned copy of this Nora Ephron NYT Op-Ed piece. As she handed it to me, she said someone said, “This is \u00c2\u00a0you.” \u00c2\u00a0 Or she said, “This is me.” \u00c2\u00a0Or she was a he. \u00c2\u00a0You see, I’ve forgotten who gave it to me.\u00c2\u00a0<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/span>I Know You<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00c2\u00a0I know you. I know you well. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s true I always have a little trouble with your name, but I do know your name. I just don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know it at this moment. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re at a big party. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve kissed hello. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve had a delightful conversation about how we are the two last people on the face of the earth who don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t kiss on both cheeks. Now we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re having a conversation about how phony all the people are who do kiss on both cheeks. Ha ha ha ha ha ha. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re so charming. If only I could remember your name. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s inexcusable that I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been to my house for dinner. I tried to read your last book. I know your girlfriend\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s name, or I almost know it. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s something like Chanelle. Only it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not. Chantelle? That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not it either. Fortunately she isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t here, so I haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t forgotten both of your names. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m becoming desperate. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s something like Larry. Is it Larry? No, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not. Jerry? No, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not. But it ends in a Y. Your last name: three syllables. Starts with a C. Starts with a G? I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m losing my mind. But a miracle occurs: the host is about to toast the guest of honor. Thank God. I can escape to the bar. I will spend the rest of the night scrolling through the alphabet in an attempt to come up with your name. If I fail, there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s always Google. If only I could remember what that last book was about.<\/p>\n

Have We Met?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>Have we met? I think we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve met. But I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be sure. We were introduced, but I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t catch your name because it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s so noisy at this party. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going to assume we know each other, and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not going to say, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Nice to meet you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d If I say, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Nice to meet you,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I know what will happen. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll say, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve met.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll say \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve met\u00e2\u20ac\u009d in a sort of aggressive, irritable tone. And you won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t even tell me your name so I can recover in some way. So I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not going to say, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Nice to meet you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going to say, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Nice to\u00c2\u00a0see<\/span>\u00c2\u00a0you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll have a big smile on my face. I won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t look desperate. But what I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll be thinking is, please throw me your name. Please, please, please. Give me a hint. My husband is likely to walk up, and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll have to introduce you, and I won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be able to, and you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll know that I have no idea who you are even though we probably spent an entire weekend together on a boat in 1984. And even though I have a secret signal with my husband that involves my pinching him very hard on the upper arm, a signal that means, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Throw your name at this person because I have no idea whom I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m talking to,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d my husband always forgets the secret signal and can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be counted on to respond to my pinching, even when it produces a bruise. I would like to chew my husband out about his forgetfulness on this point, but I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not exactly in a position to do so since I myself have forgotten (if I ever knew it) the name of the person I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m talking to.<\/p>\n

Old Friends<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Old friends? We must be. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re delighted to see me. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m delighted to see you. But who are you? Oh, my God, you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re Jane. I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t believe it. Jane. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Jane! How are you? It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been \u00e2\u20ac\u201d how long has it been?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d like to suggest that the reason I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t recognize you right off the bat is that you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve done something to your hair, but you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve done nothing to your hair, nothing that would excuse my not recognizing you. What you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve actually done is gotten older. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t believe it. You used to be my age, and now you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re much, much, much older than I am. You could be my mother. Unless of course I look as old as you and I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know it. Which is not possible. Or is it? I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m looking around the room and I notice that everyone in it looks like someone \u00e2\u20ac\u201d and when I try to figure out exactly who that someone is, it turns out to be a former version of herself, a thinner version or a healthier version or a pre-plastic-surgery version or a taller version. If this is true of everyone, it must be true of me. Mustn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t it? But never mind: you are speaking. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Maggie,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d you say, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been so long.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not Maggie,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I say. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh, my God,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d you say, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s you. I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t recognize you. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve done something to your hair.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A while ago, a friend gave me a scanned copy of this Nora Ephron NYT Op-Ed piece. As she handed it to me, she said someone said, “This is \u00c2\u00a0you.” \u00c2\u00a0 Or she said, “This is me.” \u00c2\u00a0Or she was … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[12],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2564","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-other"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2564","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2564"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2564\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2564"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2564"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2564"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}