The winding down of summer puts me in a heavy philosophical mood.

My secret agenda is to convey my values to my kids.

Making a living and having a life are not the same thing. Making a living and making a life that's worthwhile are not the same thing. Living the good life and living a good life are not the same thing. A job title doesn't even come close to answering the question. "What do you do?".

It's just this: that there are places we all come from-deep-rooty-common places- that makes us who we are. And we disdain them or treat them lightly at our peril. We turn our backs on them at the risk of self-contempt. There is a sense in which we need to go home again-and can go home again. Not to recover home, no. But to sanctify memory.

And I’m not confused about the lack of, or the need for, imagination in low or high places. We could do better we must do better. There are far worse things to drop on people than crayolas.

Play fair. Don't hit people. Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.

All I ever needed to know I learned in kindergarten. Share everything ... Don't hit people ... Clean up your own mess.