I Don't Have To Participate

Like Any Good Shaman, Professional Baseball Player, Or Politician, My Mother Always Answered Questions With Questions.

...and Nostalgia Is A Cancer. Nostalgia Will Fill Your Heart Up With Tumors. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, That's What You Are. You're Just An Old Fart Dying Of Terminal Nostalgia.

My Career Means, If You're A Non-indian Writing About Indians, At Least There's One Indian In Your Rearview Mirror.

In The Middle Of The Night, When You're Ambiguously Ethnic, Like Me, When You're Brown, Beige, Mauve, Siena, One Of Those Lighter Browns In The Crayola Box. You Have To Be Careful Of The Cops And Robbers, Because Nobody's Quite Sure What You Are, But Everybody Has Assumptions.

If You Teach Kids How To Tell Stories, They Have A Better Chance At Everything.