My Favorite Things

March 17, 1986

Dear Mr. Amster:

I love you more than anything in the whole world. I love you more than anyone in the whole world. I love you more than anything in the whole world. I love you very very much. I love you more than anything. I love you more than anyone. I love you. I love you. I do.

I love you more than white daisies and pink tulips. I love you more than fried chicken. I love you more than New York City. I love you more than chocolate tofutti. I love you more than Greek food. I love you more than Barnard College. I love you more than comfy chairs. I love you more than hot apple pie with real whipped cream on top. I love you more than eating out. I love you more than new clothes or old clothes or used clothes. I love you more than window shopping. I love you more than buying clothes. I love you more than clean sheets. I love you more than sleeping late on weekdays. I love you more than weekends. I love you more than San Francisco. I love you more than speaking French. I love you more than signing. I love you more than Switzerland. I love you more than Mozart. I love you more than the Islanders winning another Stanley Cup Championship. I love you more than ice hockey at the Nassau Coliseum. I love you more than The Elliot Feld Ballet. I love you more than The Great Gatsby by F. Scott. I love you more than sitting on the steps at Columbia University. I love you more than Paris, France. I love you more than iced coffee. I love you more than drinking hot coffee in the shower. I love you more than taking a bubble bath. I love you more than oral sex. I love you more than walking on Fifth Avenue on a sunny, warm June day. I love you more than seders on Passover. I love you more than Hamantaschen. I love you more than poppy seed bagels with cream cheese and lox. I love you more than Kaplan's Deli. I love you more than picnics in Central Park or Riverside Park or even City Park. I love you more than cold nights with lots of warm sheets and covers. I love you more than cheesecake or chocolate mousse. I love you more than barbecue potato chips and Munchos and Cheese Doodles. I love you more than bacon cheeseburgers with sauteed mushrooms. I love you more than ch-ch-ch-Cherry Coke. I love you more than Gloria Steinem.

I love you more than Jacques Brel. I love you more than "On Broadway" sung by George Benson. I love you more than David Bowie singing "Kooks.'' I love you more than "For Unto Us A Child Is Born" in Handel's Messiah. I love you more than "Desperado" and "For You Blue" and "Mother Nature's Son" and "Pressure" and "Monday Monday" and "Ain't Misbehaving" and "Stormy Weather" and "Always True To You" and "My Boyfriend's Back" and "Jailhouse Rock" and "Heartbreak Hotel" and "Roof Garden" and "You're The Top" and "Fugue For Tin Horns" and "Adelaide's Lament" and "Lonesome Picker" and "I Ain't A-Marchin' Anymore" and "Crazy" and "Amazing Grace" and "Goodbye Norma Jean" and "Whose Garden Was This" and "Bound for Glory" and "It's Funny" and "The Boxer" and "My Funny Valentine."
 
 

March 25, 1986

These are a few of my favorite things ... part II:

I love you more than my new used red ten-speed Raleigh bicycle. I love you more than pumpkin pie with whipped cream on top. I love you more than bathtubs big enough to make love in. I love you more than making out in cars. I love you more than rocky road ice cream. I love you more than banana ice cream. I love you more than Mostly Mozart concerts in August when the weather is really hot. I love you more than watching the people during intermission at the Metropolitan Opera while sitting on the fountain in Lincoln Center. I love you more than elephant jokes. I love you more than The Importance of Being Earnest. I love you more than beer and raw oysters. I love you more than baseball games at Shea Stadium. I love you more than Joan and Cindy and Mary. I love you more than the view from the top of the World Trade Center. I love you more than shopping in thrift shops. I love you more than my grandfather's big old shirts. I love you more than tea with milk. I love you more than suites in hotels where everything is paid for by someone else. I love you more than Moose Head Beer. I love you more than All That Jazz. I love you more than turkey stuffing (inside and outside). I love you more than kissing in airports. I love you more than free movies. I love you more than corned beef sandwiches on rye with mustard. I love you more than potato knishes. I love you more than cashmere sweaters. I love you more than the blue sweater Sue made for you. I love you more than picking apples. I love you more than homemade bread. I love you more than chicken salad sandwiches on whole wheat bread. I love you more than holidays. I love you more than typing on a word processor. I love you more than the New York Islanders and Mets. I love you more than napping on rainy afternoons. I love you more than complaining. I love you more than cooking supper. I love you more than walking on Columbus Avenue. I love you more than Chinatown, New York. I love you more than libraries. I love you more than little boxes. I love you more than The Beatles. I love you more than blueberry muffins. I love you more than previews. I love you more than coming attractions. I love you more than a red Mustang or green Jag. I love you more than finding a parking space close to school. I love you more than potato latkes and potato knishes. I love you more than buying earrings from a street vendor. I love you more than beads. I love you more than black clothes. I love you more than big big big sweaters. I love you more than writing checks. I love you more than spending money. I love you more than slow walks. I love you more than wishing on stars. I love you more than singing to the New York City skyline. 

And I love all these things an awful lot!


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