critique

Of all the critiques I have heard or read in my life, the one that continues to sing sweetly in my mind came from a college chum, who, like me, was studying English and was interested in writing.

One evening, as Tom Libby and I were bs-ing with the gusto and solemnity that only college students can indulge in without laughter, Tom mounted a full-frontal assault on his homework assignment -- the work of Percy Bysshe Shelley:

"'I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!'" Tom intoned sonorously... followed immediately with a resounding

"OHHH SHIT!!!!!"

His voice fairly dripped with get-a-life, sparkling disgust.

And to this day, I simply cannot forget the trumpet I heard that evening.