I Don't Even Get An

I Lead A Simple Life. I Feed The Fish. I Walk The Dogs. I Cook Dinner. Occasionally I Take A Meeting.

I Did A Radio Interview For A Station In Connecticut Or Something, And It Was The Worst Interview Ever. It Was All Yes And No Answers.

Gosh, I Couldn't Even Talk Right Until I Was About 6 Years Old Or Something Like That.

I Do Have A Family, And I Do Have Friends, And So-called Friends, And Acquaintances, And Many Other People I See Only Around Christmas Time. Maybe They Could Vouch For Me. Maybe They Could Testify To My Existence And Save A Part Of Me That Thinks I'm No Better Than A Bag Of Potato Chips.

My Father Was Overbearing. Very Controlling. He Was Always The Way He Is, Even Before My Success. He Was Not Always A Good Person. He'd Play Mind Games To Make Sure I Knew My Place. I Don't See Him, Which Is Unfortunate. But I Don't Have Any Desire To See Him. I Vaguely Know Where He Is, And I Don't Want To Know.