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I was listening to television commercials this morning. (They are my favorite.) When a youngster was playing chopsticks. Someone in the background said "don't you know any other song?"
I told Fran that my mother never said a word about me playing chopsticks over and over again. In fact, at times she would sit with me and play fancy chopsticks while I was playing the melody. Oh what memories. Not, perhaps like Shakespear, but nonetheless remembered for generations.
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