Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

"What are the things you couldn't live without?" I asked my Grammy T. I waited, expecting to get an earful of beloved family members, cherished mementos and maybe a word on good health. "What can't I live without?" Grammy echoed, double-checking my question. She wasn't wearing her hearing aid. "Well, I'd say I couldn't live without my washing machine. And also my photocopier. Although I think I might need a new ink tank."

As for myself, I was at Dendrite getting the photo taken for my visitor badge. I happened to look up at the television behind the security desk just as MJ's stretcher was wheeled out into the ambulance and the tragic news scrolled across the bottom of the screen. I know for a fact I had a Mr. Bill-meets-McCauley-Culkin-Home-Alone expression plastered on my face. I know this because it was memorialized on my visitors badge. Unfotunately, as far as Andrew is concerned, I was forced to return the badge at the termination of my visit.