i’ve always loved jack handy (remember “deep thoughts with jack handy” on SNL?). i have most (all?) of his books. i giggle uncontrollably when i read them. as i did when i read this article from the new yorker.
This is not playtime or make-believe. This is real. It’s as real as a beggar squatting by the side of the road, begging, and then you realize, Uh-oh, he’s not begging.
This is as real as a baby deer calling out for his mother. But his mother won’t be coming home anytime soon, because she is drunk in a bar somewhere.
(ht to tony jones)