One of the things I had a hard time getting used to when I came to California in '78 was Santa Claus in shorts.
When he realized who he'd pulled over, the policeman shook his head in disbelief. He told me of all people I should know better. He gave me a real dressing down, but let me go.
I always liked the smell of a smoke-filled room. I think it's a good smell.
Coming from Chicago, I like a white Christmas.
I respect people and expect that kind of respect back.
I was so emotional. Choked up. I could hardly talk all day. I'll be cleaning out my trailer and saying goodbye soon, realizing what a wonderful experience this has been.