Given the recent revelatory, elevatory challenging story I can't belief I haven't made more of the fact that I once had a studio in a building with the worst elevator in the know universe. Drafty it was. And jerky. If only I could borrow Ann's Time Machine to head back to 1999 to capture the expressions on the 20 people (load limit 4) trapped between the 3rd and 4th floor after a particularly drunken affair on the roof, with Spud having disguised the lift car with a stomach full of cognac. I wisely took the stairs.

Which is to say, all motion is relative, or in your case, relatives. Also, Maddie would like to know if there is a dress so she can match an appropriate umbrella.

Awaiting your response. Start holding breath,...NOW!