- Gorky wrote in My Universities: “I do not like the moon.” As for me, I adore the moon, in all its phases.
- I spent a year building a boat that could take you back to me. When I finished, I took it apart and sent you the pieces.
- I stare at the moon as Neil Armstrong walks on it. I can’t fathom how humans made this possible, but know that the process started with the earliest living organisms and followed a complex set of instructions relayed in pieces through the ages.
- The sun is always out. The moon is always full.
- The parrot sits on her shoulder in the third row of the off-off-off-Broadway play, silent for the first scene, then increasingly cranky. As they leave during intermission, she says gently to the parrot, “I’m so sorry I should have never brought you here”
- Walking home from third grade on a chilly Fall afternoon, I see a circle of kids surrounding a fight. Most of them are shouting, “Come on, Babes,” “Get him, Babes.” Babes is a fourth grade bully. I despise and fear him and stay out of his way. He has the fight well in control, but is making sure not to dominate so much that even he would have to stop. Babes pins the other kid’s shoulders with his knees as he checks out the crowd. He glares at me and I start yelling, “Come on, Babes.” Babes bangs the kid’s head a couple of times into the dirt and nods at me as he slowly gets to his feet. At anti-war rallies many years later I won’t be able to chant.
- I arrive ten minutes early for a 2 p.m. dental checkup. Several people are in the waiting room. In my discreet sweep of the room—no eye contact—I sense familiarity, which doesn’t surprise me as I have been coming here for many years. At 2 p.m., a man stands up and enters the office area without being called, followed by the others. The last woman to leave the waiting room turns to me and says, “Come on in, Mr. Ziegler,” and, as I do, I see that the man has put on a white smock and become my dentist.
- On the corner of 72nd Street and Broadway in July, a man in a long black coat comes running to me, desperation in his eyes. “Do you know what happened?” he implores. “Where?” I ask. The man looks at me incredulously and shrieks, “Anywhere!” He runs off before I can think of an answer. I am making a list, should we meet again.
- Jason Robards in All the President's Men: "Run that baby" (double tap, clap)
- Father and son on Mothers Day in the tiny hospital cafeteria. The father orders a ham and Swiss on rye, adding, “Could you put mayo on one side and mustard on the other?” The son has always chosen one or the other, never fully satisfied. The father has taught a life lesson to his son as his wife my mother lies dying a corridor away.
- My yin can’t reach my yang.
- In the Land of the Living, by law once you’re dead and gone you’re gone and forgotten. Books you’ve written are taken out of circulation and paintings off walls; inventions and products confiscated. Your offspring live as if orphaned at birth. This land has no funeral homes or cemeteries. Flags always fly full. Only natural wonders appear on currency. And people live long: loved and cared for deep into old age. Medical school is mandatory, and anyone who saves a life is feted royally.