I measure my life by how many keys I have on my ring. I hate keys. Keys remind me every day that people steal, and that I need to lock up my stuff. My hands full as usual, I curse while I fumble to get out of my house, to get in my garage, to unlock my trunk, unlock...
When I was a kid I marched up and down the sidewalk in front of my house carrying a "Richard Nixon for President" sign. I didn't really know who he was—I was nine—but I knew there was an election, and I found the sign in the alley, and I liked marching around. I had...
Little Jack Horner sat in a corner Eating his Christmas pie He stuck in his thumb, pulled out a plum And said, "What a good boy am I!" After reading that, I headed for the kitchen, my size 3 Keds squeaking on the linoleum, and stuck my thumb directly into a freshly...
I was supposed to have closed Mick's Music & Bar by now. Sold it. Run off to Canún, joined the circus or something. That's all still in the plan, but there has been a postponement. It's like having a lovely classic car for sale, and you sell it, but the new owner...