It was lovely to meet Herr Hills and his Alison (not to mention that Subaru!). More conservative readers will be relieved to find out that the Hills home is not only in a good neighborhood, but that fetish/alternative life style items such as model trains (discreetly stored in a cupboard, you wouldn't know unless you were looking for them and who sensibly would?), whips and chains were hidden from sight. You could invite kids to that tastefully furnished and adorned house (with a glass cased TBird hovering from the breakfast table wall while Alison's artful photowork was relegated to standing on the floor ...) with an abundance of - somewhat garishly finned - TBürdzees. Which all played nicely. And that Jackson was a real killer.
The real Mark is also prone to impromptu throw out German sentences in perfect grammar and pronounciation which had Edith and me startled a couple of times. And added to that he speaks English with the nicest and clearest mellow West Coast accent I have yet heard. And though you would never know it from his girth, he also likes to wine and dine!
Mark, you know where to drop in on your upcoming visit to the Geiger clan!
