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If I ever happen into a restaurant where the meal is performance, I do not return. Give me a burger and fries at one of the local sports bars with ten TVs within eyeshot or a plate of steamy chicken Mei-fun at the hole-in-the wall Asian place in the strip mall any day. At people's homes, where meal as performance happens, you're put on notice that this isn't about you and performance bleeds over into dinner conversation as well, so that there is little real about the whole affair, even after three properly half-filled glasses of wine.

As a retired prof from MSU, the shootings on campus this week prompted similar thoughts about the importance of remembrance, witnessing on TV and radio the friends and relatives of the victims thinking about the good times they had with them. Something to keep them still somehow present for the survivors.

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