I had yesterday all planned – working at my desk, a class at the Y, more work, teaching. But then the phone rang at 10 a.m. It was my beloved friend, writer Wayson Choy, back from Vancouver; he had just handed in the latest draft of his memoir, so now he was ready to play. “Let’s have lunch and see a movie,” he said. I hesitated for a second or two – what about my work, my fitness regime? Oh, to hell with it, nothing is more important than spending time with Wayson Choy.