My Politics

I've been accused of not being involved in or concerned with politics enough. Guilty as charged. Like the teenager who vandalizes because the consequences are too distant for him to care about, I plug my ears to the political ruckus that surrounds me because I just don't know how to care. No matter who becomes president next November, I'll still wake up groggy, pee standing up (except late at night), love my daughter, and laugh with my friends. But to appease the masses, here's my stance (however watery it is):

I gladly pay taxes because I'm grateful to live in America.

I receive a tax return because I'm poor at managing my own money.

If you're for ending racism, I'm for you.

If you're for ending racism through racism and hatred through hatred, please don't use my name in your brochures.

I claim Thomas Jefferson, although I don't know what party he was from.

Some wars have to be fought. And some wars can't be won.

If Democrats are getting a Christmas bonus this year, sign me up.

Republicans always get a Christmas bonus, so please leave my name on the list.

I won't need welfare when I'm 60, but some people will.

Kissing babies is awkward and creepy.

The FBI, CIA, DHS, and big W himself can listen in on my phone calls. I've always liked an audience.

The saying "If you don't like it here, then leave" is more shortsighted and ignorant than even my political views.

More people are cured of cancer each year than travel to space. Let's keep it that way.

I would like a personal fee waiver to get into national and state parks. Thanks.

For Technical Purposes

What Love Might Be

While shots were being fired on the presidential cavalcade, Jackie O reached back onto the trunk of the convertible and grabbed a piece of her dying husband's skull.

The Blank Page

The blank page. Sand on a campfire. If anything can extinguish the nearly indefatigable spirit of an aspiring writer, it is 24 lb. Bright White Bond. Or perhaps the pale glow from a computer screen.

On the bus I construct labyrinthine yarns involving myriads of people whose lives are interconnected by fate or love or religion or serendipity or a cold cup of coffee. I direct movies that finally stab issues like today versus yesterday versus tomorrow in the heart. That ragged man leaning against the statue of James Joyce – I know his life. Let me tell it to you. It’s a comedy. No, a musical. It’s much more Oklahoma than An American in Paris. You’re going to love it. And then I get off the bus. I take the pencil out from behind my ear. 24 lb. Bright White Bond. An empty street. And another day without writing.