Angel of Brooklyn
One of the pleasures of having a child is introducing him to my own childhood favorites; just a few days ago, Oliver discovered Spike Jones, and is now requesting songs by name. To hear him laugh out loud at every carhorn, gunshot, or sneeze is a true delight.This pleasure extends, of course, to the work of the late, great Maurice Sendak, as odd and inimitable a mixture of open-hearted and cantankerous as I can think…
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