People do what they are told not to do. It happens time and time again. Here on the frozen tundra, it is known as the Tongue on the Frozen Pump Handle principle.

I write for a radio show that, no matter what, will go on the air Saturday at five o'clock central time. You learn to write toward that deadline, to let the adrenaline pick you up on Friday morning and carry you through, to cook up a monologue about Lake Wobegon and get to the theater on time.

When writing loses touch with the beautiful surface of the world, it loses its way. You always want to be in touch with how things look and what people say and what they call their dogs.

As for kissing on the first date, you should never date someone whom you would not wish to kiss immediately.

Sometimes there is nothing you can do, and in those times, you must do something anyway.

Vodka is tasteless going down, but it is memorable coming up.

I remember when I switched from Christmas to sex as the secret of happiness.