Words from a Nice Jewish Boy
When I was young we had a little white dog named Bitch. She was incredibly smart, and we taught her to do back flips for treats. We would show her off at every opportunity. Bitch was our everything.
In September of '91 my parents held a break fast after Yom Kippur. We'd pushed the dining room table against the wall so we could serve an astounding amount of food buffet style. I'm talking deli meats, whole turkeys, soups, salads, you name it. Everyone was gorging themselves when we all caught wind of this strange smell. I looked under the table and there was Bitch, shaking and foaming at the mouth. Someone had knocked over some ranch dressing at the back of the table and it dripped down the wall onto an electrical socket. Sadly, that dog loved ranch dressing. Now don't worry, Bitch lived for many more years, but she could never quite do a flip the way she used to. She would fly backwards half way, and then land right on her furry little head.
The point of this story is that I feel like Bitch when I read the Doctor's writing -- like I've been turned upside down and have landed on my head, and I'm not quite the same animal I used to be. So read on, and enjoy, or go away and be the same old bitch you ever were.
- Ezra Fox, February 2008
New Work
Just a little something about my dad, Richard M. Doctoroff, esquire. Added 2.10.08.
For More on the Subject of Julia Doctoroff
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