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the everyman memoirs

The official blog of author Tali Nay. who are you?


I received this picture along with the following text message yesterday: "Just thought you would like to see the books I have on display in my office..."

Messages such as this warm my heart, and I do love seeing my book on a shelf. Anyone's shelf. Which brings me to the following despicable confession: This could very well be anyone's shelf, because I have no idea who sent me this text. And isn't that the worst? Someone whose number you should probably know is not even in your phone.

Something similar happened recently while at a production of War Horse (great show, by the way). As the show ended and the packed theater was filing out, I saw a woman who looked familiar. I didn't think much of it, because I couldn't place her, but when she caught sight of me a minute later, she greeted me as if we had once been besties. All I could offer back was a cheery "Hi!! How are you?" and after establishing we were both fine, we were separated again in the large crowd. Who this woman is, I have no idea. I don't have so much as an inkling of her name or the circumstances under which I knew her. How does one handle those situations, and why are we so embarrassed to admit that something has slipped through our mental cracks? I had an answer to that, but it's escaped me.


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