On The Virtues Of Walking
I, a girl Jewish from Los Angeles, met Joe Malone, an Irish boy from Brooklyn, in an off-campus Yiddish class in Berkeley in 1962. For our first date, he invited me to a movie. There wasn’t a limo waiting at the door. There wasn’t even a run-down jalopy. We walked the one mile to the movie theater, where we saw The Hustler, starring Paul Newman. Somewhere in the middle of the movie, despite Paul Newman’s handsomeness, I fell in love with Joe Malone. We’ve been married twenty-eight years.