I’ll miss you.

Don’t worry; I wasn’t talking about my death.

“I’d make an awful mother,” Amy predicted, “so since I want the best for my children, I’m not going to have any.”

While I was still punching information into the computer, Michael scribbled a few numbers on a scrap of paper, then predicted that the files would weigh in at 3.6 megabytes. After completing my calculation, I concluded that each file would actually be 3.7 megabytes.

“Wow, how’d you do that?” I asked.

“Pretty simple, really,” Michael replied. “It’s normal procedure to check your slide rule calculations.”

I’m sure Michael had no negatory intentions, but his remarks nevertheless stung. I always wanted a slide rule, but couldn’t afford one when I was a child. Then, when I could afford a nice, mahogany slide rule, I didn’t need one because I already had a phenomenally powerful Kaypro II computer in a thick, steel case.

Alas.

Ferry, the consummate frontman for the ensemble Roxy Music, recognized the indisputable accomplishments of another frontman, Adolph Hitler.

“The Nazis knew how to put themselves in the limelight and present themselves. Leni Riefenstahl’s movies and Albert Speer’s buildings and the mass parades and the flags—just amazing. Really beautiful.”

That’s one of the few things on which any former art student like Ferry—or any current employee of the current American government—can agree. Although American government officials ape the Nazis without citing their source, Ferry made the mistake of calling a spade a spade.

Of course, the problem with Ferry’s approach was that he failed to mention that the Nazis were thoroughly reprehensible humans as well as consummate showmen. And so, Ferry apologized after the fact.

“I apologize unreservedly for any offense caused by my comments on Nazi iconography, which were solely made from an art history perspective,” Ferry said, adding, “I, like every right-minded individual, find the Nazi regime, and all it stood for, evil and abhorrent.”

Ferry’s after-the-fact groveling might have been more effective had he not referred to his London studio as his Führerbunker. Oh well, at least Riefenstahl won’t be making any videos for him.

My piece, Sugarcubes Cubed, wasn’t nearly as elegant or minimal as LeWitt’s work. I maintain that was the premise of my work. But I would say that, wouldn’t I?