"A body has to move gentle and speak low when wild things is about."

My upstairs neighbor seems to be listening to a Barry Manilow greatest hits album. There's something oddly nice about that to me. At very least, there's one person in this town who won't try and outband you when you tell them what the last concert you saw was. One person, at least, who doesn't only know a song after it's been covered by the Walkmen or the Wrens. Or Scarlett Johansson.

I turned on HDNet and watched The Searchers and then The Bridge on the River Kwai and then The Outlaw Josey Wales and then Dirty Harry. I guess I'm officially a man, now.

This hardly seems worth having written it.