la americani a fost ziua Mamei, iar Mike Sager – unul dintre scriitorii mei preferati (e jurnalist in definitia corecta, dar e scriitor prin munca sa) a scris pentru prima data despre mama sa
If not for her, I wouldn’t be a writer. Writing is the thing that I love most in the world. The people I love most are my son and my wife, followed by my parents and my sister. But writing is me. It defines the very essence of who I am, what I’ve been doing every single day for something like 32 years.
That comes from my mother.
I don’t think I’ve ever said it before.
I remember her always saying whatever she thought—whether it was the right thing to say at the time or not. To this day she has no filter. That she was usually dead-right in her observations lessened the pain not one iota. I freely admit: I seem to have inherited this quality from her, if that’s what you call it. It helps in my work, to be sure. I’m paid to spout off, to speak my mind. If I happen to be tilting at windmills, all the better, it separates me from the pack. Luckily, with writing, there is a delete key. There is re-reading and re-writing the next day. There’s an editor. In person it’s not so easy. Shit comes out of my mouth.
mi-nu-nat. cind am citit mi-au dat lacrimile si mi-am adus aminte ca-l cam iubesc pe domnul Mike Sager. il gasiti, din cind in cind, si in varianta romaneasca a revistei Esquire.