At Wh.ole Foods, I got into a discussion with a woman who had almost run over my foot with her grocery cart while I was getting the almond butter. I don’t how she made the transition but her announcement “I went to high school with Wilt Chamberlain” commanded my attention. Once we had established I was from West Philly and she was from Wynnefield, I decided to impress her with my knowledge of ’50s high school basketball, “Let’s see,” I said, “Wilt played with Johnny Sample and…” “He didn’t play,” she said. “He dropped the ball. That;s not playing. We stoipped going to the games. Who wanted to see him drop the ball? And then he wrote that terrible book that everyone in Philadelphia hated.”
She was a feisty, zesty seventy-seven-year-old, and everyone is entitled to write their own history, is how i figure.