I do have an answer, though: Life is just like a picnic. Everybody shows up expecting a piece of the pie. Some rush the picnic table, some walk to the picnic table. Some trample and pound on your brother Goose and say it’s because they worried there wouldn’t be enough pie for everyone, but you suspect it’s because Goose likes to flash gang signals. Then you finally get to the picnic table yourself—not the fastest, not the slowest, but you get there just the same.

And the damn pie is all eaten up! What’s with that? It’s a friggin’ picnic, mom, you should have known everybody was going to want pie. You were making one, was two pies beyond your pie-making capacity? ‘Cause that’s a pretty shitty pie-making capacity, if you ask me.

Then mom tells you she did make two pies, and you feel a little sheepish and realize it was all a big fuss for nothing. You step right up and cut into your slice of the pie, that was there all along.

‘This is coconut, mom!’ you scream at her. What’s wrong with coconut? Oh, nothing, only it fucking kills me dead. That might be a slight problem. I’m your own son and you don’t know I’m allergic to coconut? Nice. Just great. You couldn’t save one piece of blueberry pie that would not kill me but there’s a whole untouched killer coconut pie waiting just for me. What a fantastic substitute.

No, I don’t want a fruitcup. Do you want a fruitcup? I’ll tell you where you can shove a fruitcup. Leave me alone, I’m going to play Frisbee with those kids. Maybe you’ll get lucky and some coconut will accidentally blow into my mouth from the death pie over here and you’ll finally be rid of me.

Yep. That’s kind of how I see life.”

“Slice of Life”

"The Room"
Uncle Trey had a big rambling old house that he lived in; bigger, many thought, than a confirmed bachelor like him would ever need. We liked it, though, because it gave us lots of opportunities to play whenever we would visit him. We had the run of the house, upstairs and downstairs, except for one room that Uncle Trey warned us to never, ever go in.

"New York"
The first time I visited New York City it was 1946. The year, I mean. It was hot on the heels of World War II and I was a young man seeking a college internship or a job as a roadie for Glenn Miller.

"Fishing"
Meadows was an expert fisherman, raised in a fisherman family. His father was a fisherman, his father’s father was a fisherman, his father’s father’s father sold lingerie in Times Square, but the father of that father’s father’s father was a fisherman as well, so on.

"History"
My college years were plentiful with fun and new experiences. When I recall people from that time I always think of my European History professor, Mr. Carmel.

"Flood"
One year a flood hit our town, and it was among the most horrible things that ever happened. Over 20 people were killed, and I liked three of them. It made me very sad.