Monday, April 12, 2010


When I was a little boy, I had a pal named Ernest. His real name was Ernesto, but that is not the point. The point is: even though I didn’t know what it was to be earnest when I was a little boy, I liked Ernest, a little boy with curly blond hair and an easy smile. His basic decency made him a good friend. I was very lucky this way; now when anyone says: I say this in earnest, or He’s very earnest, or I am telling you in earnest: I am leaving for good, then I of course think of curly blond hair, an easy smile, Spain, goodness, and my friend who was very earnest.

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