The soft, everyday intimacy of shoulders touching, standing in line at the grocery store.

Sleeping away the lazy afternoon together dreaming about sleeping away the lazy afternoon together.

These things that don't even need to be talked about, lest we break the soap-bubble tension of their loveliness.

Jews, gangsters, ne'er-do-wells and Communists: family history, in short.

Intuition. Horoscopes and healthy superstition.

High Fidelity. Krazy & Ignatz.

Bagels. Bacon. Brooklyn.

Funk basslines.

The return of personal ambition.

The restorative effects of alcohol.

The renunciation of smoke's pleasures.

Wool overcoats. Coffee. Rosé and shiraz. Yogurt and vitamins.

Chicago and the wide, wakening world.

"I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'"

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