This Is What Makes Me

As My Good Friend Al Capp Told Me A Few Years Ago, The Best Thing To Do With A Confirmed [hotel] Reservation Slip When You Have No Room Is To Spread It Out On The Sidewalk In Front Of The Hotel And Go To Sleep On It. You'll Either Embarrass The Hotel Into Giving You A Room Or You'll Be Hauled Off To The Local Jug, Where At Least You'll Have A Roof Over Your Head.

Put Yourself In Hamlet's Shoes. Suppose You Were A Prince, And You Came Back From College To Discover That Your Uncle Had Murdered Your Father And Married Your Mother, And You Fell In Love With A Beautiful Girl And Mistakenly Murdered Her Father, And Then She Went Crazy And Drowned Herself. What Would You Do? Go Back For A Masters?

This Is What Makes Me Happy: ...any Music-free Restaurant ... A Grandson Who Offers To Clean The Snow Off My Driveway And Also Fix My Computer ... An Evening In Bed With A Good Book. ... A Good Night's Sleep ... As You Can See, It Doesn't Take Much To Make Me Happy.

When I Got To The Hospice I Was Under The Impression It Would Be A Two- Or Three-week Stay. But Here I Still Am, Six Weeks Later, And I've Gotten So Well Medicare Won't Pay For Me Anymore.

New York Was The Glamorous Town That You Only See Now In Old Movies And On Broadway Stages. The Sky Was Lit Up With Dancing Neon Signs. It Was Safe To Walk Out In The Streets.