16 October 2001

Dear Mr. Schwan,

Your absence at our recent dinner — expertly and deliciously prepared by Mrs. Shona S. Blizzard-Derr — did not go unnoticed, despite the abundance of good feelings, good humor and good food present at said event.

Those of us fortunate enough to be in attendance at this happy gathering remarked frequently and with great eloquence on this, the most recent in a series of many cold rebuffs you have dealt us. Mr. Schwan, quite simply, we are hurt.

But deeply wounded though we may be, we will not allow our pain to turn to anger. We bear you no malice, we harbor no spleen for you, and we shall not betray the cloven foot. Nor shall we break a butterfly on the wheel at your cold-hearted slight, imbrue our hands in blood, plant a thorn in your breast nor do you ill office. In fact, Mr. Schwan, with swift and determined hands, we are throwing our thesauraus out. No longer shall we dragoon you with words.

Instead, as a show of our continued good will towards you and all other residents of the fair state of New Jersey (located a mere 5 hours from Boston), we present to you these uplifting and spiritually nourishing images of our weekend meal.

Our sincere hope is that these photos do not make you jealous of our unabated prandial joy.

With fondest wishes,

Nat Friedman

Ettore has had some great pictures lately. Particularly this and this and this.

And Hoy’s web site is just too disconcerting for words. Bear in mind that Hoy is about 15 years old…