The yachts, like floating towers of Babel, arrogantly stretched towards the sky.

Out of the darkness she strode carrying the night with her.

I saw the old man cry watching the men march off to war.

His Tin Pan Alley days were gone for good.

And then the sky turned black.

It was like we could feel our trendiness slip away moment by moment.

Telling people when they had food stuck in their teeth became a personal crusade after my spinach salad fiasco on national television.