He takes a drag from his skinny-ass cigar and scrolls through the latest posts on his phone. He adjusts the sunglasses he doesn’t need because it’s not a sunny day. He’s in love, too, of course. Is there anybody who isn’t anymore? If there is, I feel really bad for them. Dionne Warwick sung that song about Alfie. Without true love we just exist. That’s Hal David, right? Without true love we just exist. Without true love – can you imagine that? I can’t. True love was there for me from the start. It’s all true love with family. Without true love we just exist. I have a hard time, even at this late date, understanding people who didn’t grow up with true love. Not that I dislike them or anything but I just don’t understand them. When you’re a parent you’re under no obligation to love your kid. But if you don’t, you’re shit. I don’t see any way around that.
Children are different from adults. Everybody sees that but, like a lot of other things in life, people like to pretend that such differences don’t exist. But they do. The difference between black and white, old and young, gay and straight, rich and poor. They may be superficial sometimes, but they’re there.
Love is here.
Love is inescapable.
Love is nothing but a measurement of time.
Touch me, darling. Is that too much to ask? Of course it is.
When I was a kid (in another era) I wanted. I wanted. I wanted.
I’m harmless, right? That’s my thing: I’m harmless.
It’s the age-old thing: the guy’s harmless, leave him alone.
It’s very nice here. There are kids playing baseball and people barbequing. That’s a southern thing, right, the barbeque?