“February 18, 1969
Dear Mom,
It seems like you were just here. How did it go by so fast? Isn’t Woody hilarious? Did you really like the play? I couldn’t exactly tell. Woody does a lot of let’s just say unusual things onstage, things you wouldn’t think a person of his stature would do. Last night, in the middle of a scene, he started impersonating James Earl Jones in The Great White Hope. I tried not to laugh, but it was impossible.
I think I had a date with him. We went to Frankie and Johnnie’s famous steakhouse. Everything was going well until I scraped my fork agains the plate and made a normal, I stress normal, cutting noise. It must have driven him nuts, ‘cause he yelped out loud, I couldn’t figure out how to cut my steak without making the same mistake, so I stopped eating and started talking about women’s status in the arts, like I know anything about women and the arts. What an idiot. The whole thing was humiliating. I doubt we’ll be having dinner together anytime soon. Today he sent me a little note. I think you’ll relate.
Love, Diane”
Stop what you’re doing and pick up Diane Keaton’s autobiography, Then Again. Stuffed with letters and journal entries from Diane and her mother, it somehow made me feel a little less alone in my neuroses. And taste in clothing.
-Mallory
