I can't drive, so I can only live in New York, which is fine with me.

I go to screenings, then plays, then after-parties, then clubs.

For years, I've pushed the idea of a column compilation book mainly because it would be easy - I could just staple 'em all together. But publishers have been resistent, feeling the material dates.

By the end of the week, if I'm still alive, I get to write whatever I want about it all.

In the last few years, the very idea of telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth is dredged up only as a final resort when the alternative options of deception, threat and bribery have all been exhausted.

It's a good thing that columnists don't make homosexuality their last taboo anymore. But I wish the columnists themselves would come out too.

I can't drive, so I can only live in New York, which is fine with me.