I Think L.a. Is Impossible. There's Just

There's A Constant Chatter In Our House, Whether It's Giggling Or Screaming Or Crying Or Banging. I Love It. I Love It. I Love It. I Hate It When They're Gone. I Hate It. Maybe It's Nice To Be In A Hotel Room For A Day - 'oh, Nice, I Can Finally Read A Paper.' But Then, By The Next Day, I Miss That Cacophony, All That Life.

It May Be A Brief Interruption - Just A Few Seconds - But What If Someone Sitting Near You Is Trying To Make A Decent Bootleg? Did You Ever Think Of That? Now All Those Street-corner Copies Are Permanently Defiled By Your So-called 'emergency.' Don't Be So Damn Selfish.

I Know When I Go Outside, There'll Be A Van Or Two And They'll Probably Follow Us Four Out Of Seven Days A Week, Trying To Get Something. But I'm Just Going Across Town And I Know They're Just Wasting Their Day, So It Doesn't Bother Me Anymore.

It Is An Amazing Fact Of Human Nature That One Year We Can Be Chopping Each Other Up And The Next Year We Can Be Sharing A Pint. We Seem To Often Devolve Into Conflict No Matter How Much We Evolve...

Once You Hit 40, You Start Reexamining The Math Of It All. I'll Trade Wisdom For Youth Any Day.