She’s there now. I’m here in Oklahoma where rugs don’t matter to anybody. That’s the end of it. There are no magic rugs to fly me to her. There are only shag carpets for rich Oklahomans, and million-dollar rugs for princes. And the refugees are lucky if they get quilted toilet paper. Believe me, even when I thought we were going to live in the marble palace, I would have given it up to sit on that basement dirt floor again.
