Notes from a stay-at-home husband

When does a room become cluttered? At what point does a space reach its maximum occupancy?

Impermanence: it's a really healthy way to look at the world, especially after your kids are grown.

Today is not only the first day of the rest of my life, today is the first day I am going to leap one day forward in my daily diary and record there every night the things I need to do first thing the next morning.

Playing golf the other day with a friend, it's not the pars I remember but the poem about golf my friend read out loud to our playing 'partners', two 30-something SF financial frat-boys.

A writer is, or should be, the greatest minority. To a politician evasion is nine-tenths of the law.

Everyone who knows me knows I love basketball, especially the NBA. But I deplore the idea of 'global expansion', of having NBA teams in Latin America, Europe, Asia etc. If there must be a worldwide NBA, put the teams in historically significant places--Machu Picchu, Auschwitz, Angkor Wat.

Cellphones=the new cigarettes.

I really can't imagine being organized, I really can't, being organized would poison every drop of imagination I have.

Artists are people who make art out of what they can't make out of themselves.

It terms of the 'news', the information that guides us as citizens, it's either transparently hidden or filed under the classification, 'how much do we really need to know?' We need to know too much, that's how much, and we should assume the news that really matters is to be found somewhere, transparently hidden. In either case it is impossible to successfully read a serious newspaper without some knowledge of history.

Another way of thinking about the previous paragraph is to consider a reader, fluent in English but otherwise ignorant of literary history, first coming across the writing of Gertrude Stein. 

Not a big fan of Silicon Valley or all its by-products (Facebook, Twitter) but I would like to see them develop a program that wrote real poems, and I could put a little money into the start-up. 

V. Nabokov said he wrote for, 'aesthetic bliss.' I can't imagine a worse possible reason for writing, other than for money.