So there's my wife.

Lindsay doesn't think she's funny. But she is. She thinks I'm the funny one. I am. But what she doesn't know about funny people is that they really only respect other funny people. I could never have married a non-funny person (we call you "Normals"). Lindsay has this way of tricking people into thinking that she is all business. My newest sister in law Mallory (who won the Letter Mug) said after spending the week with us in New York: 'I always knew that it takes a certain kind of woman to love a Livingston man, and now I've seen that Lindsay is that kind of woman.'

She's funny. I think it gets buried under her wealth of other qualities, but there, nestled under brilliant and stunning, is funny. And funny has the ability to push down brilliant and stunning and rise to the top! Never is this more obvious then when she does...' The Dance.' She has 'The Dance' in her quiver and she knows when to use it. I'm sorry to say that usually 'The Dance' is preformed while barely clothed--but it has the ability to transcend even the thickest of coverings. I could not begin to describe 'The Dance' anymore than one could explain chartreuse to a blind man. But know this: whatever misconceptions you may have about Lindsay's grace and urbanity she can , at any time, shed the confines of dignity and crack her limbs into paper-piercing angles and flap the unsuspecting extremities with the conviction and determination of a drowning ferret.

This is not to say that she can't dance. We've gone dancing more than once and she glides across a ballroom (cultural hall) with the greatest of ease. No, if she just couldn't dance then it would not be funny--far from it...far, far from it. But the fact is, she knows she has it and that it's to her contrary and she uses her talent for the amusement of others.

I fear I've painted a picture of Lindsay dressed only in seven veils, dancing for me while I clap like a child, but more accurately, I see myself as the ghost of Christmas past, Fat and Jolly atop of pile of fruit and turkey legs , braying loudly as my favorite mute wood nymph tells the story of her family's journey through the tempest of electro-shock therapy. That, I feel, is a more accurate, if not specific, picture.

I really could go on and on about jokes made impeccably, or wit displayed with perfect awareness of human nuance. But why should I have all the fun? You all know her well and nothing picks up a drooping spirit like a gathering of friends commenting on the many times you've made others smile. So, without putting too much though into it, recount a funny moment you and Lindsay have shared. I would love to hear them and she could use the reminder 'lest she hangs up her dancing shoes for good.

~P