the button for the floor we were already
on the moment the doors closed, making
them open right back up again. Thinking
we’d just gone up forty-five-flights in a
split second, we watched my sweet little
grandmother exit the elevator, nervously
patting her hair as she wandered down
the hallway muttering to herself, “Why
not?”
I want to sign off here by encouraging
you to pursue your dreams with the same
belief that anything is possible as a little
old lady in knee-high stockings and
sensible heels who was born in 1903
and lived through the most
technologically flabbergasting century to
date.