“We’ve been friends since we were 13.”
“What’s the most fun you’ve ever had together?”
“Oh, we don’t know…”
“Well, what’s the hardest you’ve ever laughed together?”
“Now you listen here! I want you to write down these questions you’re asking us, pull them out when you’re 85 years old, and see if you can answer them yourself!”
“After this I go to work at a pizza shop. My wife and I were college professors in Bangladesh. I taught accounting. But one dollar in America becomes eighty dollars when we send it back home.”
Neat moment at the Webbys last night. Fresh off the $1.1 billion sale of his company, David Karp was there with his mother, Barbara. Though I’d never met her before, Barbara came over to my seat and gave me the world’s biggest hug. She kept saying: “I am so, so proud of you.”
I said to David: “Your mom just made me feel like the most special guy in the world.”
He said: “That’s how she’s made me feel my whole life.”
A March 13, 1960, article described the public’s indictment of bus drivers, accusing them of “sometimes deliberately slamming on their brakes to shake up riders” or “refusing to pull up at the curb unless there is a puddle there.” Reported by Gay Talese, who “avoids taking sides in the busman-passenger fracas by traveling to work on the subway,” the piece endeavored to tell the story from the driver’s point of view, a “story of how 10,000 drivers each day battle the world’s worst traffic while being abused by old ladies, shortchanged by schoolboys, cut off by cabs and squeezed by trucks.” Photo: Sam Falk/The New York Times
