I treasure those memories. They bring forth a rich channel of emotions from deep within– joy and sadness, gratitude and grief, satisfaction and longing–all mixed together like clothes in a laundry basket at the end of the day.

We are all growing up here, parents and kids alike!

His books have kept me sane, brought me back from the ledge more than once–a deep well of good water in poisonous times.

What is it with you people? I swear, you could be in an empty parking lot in the middle of the night outside the stadium no one has played in since they wore leather helmets and you’d still be putting the stupid thing in reverse.

I have to admit, I like it.

Dick has massaged and manicured his garden with a routine that makes the sun’s journey across the sky seem a giddy act of spontaneity.

Somewhere, buried deep in the lost piles of artifacts from my parent’s house, was a cassette of great historical significance.

Good conversation is interactive, meandering, curious, and untainted by the need to convince anyone of anything. I wish I had more of it. I treasure it when it happens.

Watching Get Back is like watching the Continental Congress.