Dick has massaged and manicured his garden with a routine that makes the sun’s journey across the sky seem a giddy act of spontaneity.

Somewhere, buried deep in the lost piles of artifacts from my parent’s house, was a cassette of great historical significance.

Good conversation is interactive, meandering, curious, and untainted by the need to convince anyone of anything. I wish I had more of it. I treasure it when it happens.