The love of Boom-Boom Annie, who was too smart to marry me.
The Carol Burnett Show, especially when Tim Conway played the butler.
Lamb chops. Yeah. With mint jelly. Ohmigod.
Friends. True friends.
Jazz. Ella. Diz. Tommy Flanagan. Lou Bellson.
Carl Hiaasen’s writing, columns and books.
That first big wave, surfed it all the way to the beach.
Laughing. Just laughing.
Sailing. The loud/silent moment the auxiliary engine stops, and suddenly it’s just you and the boat and the wind.
Running a bluff on a bigmouth from Atlantic City who showed his ace-high flush before throwing it away, heh-heh.
Brand new car. Just staring at it, sitting there in the driveway.
Writing for people who love to read.
Taste of the piney air in the Sierra, air so good you want to chew it.
Big dogs. Labs. Only Dick Chaney could turn his back on a Lab puppy.
And horses. Morgans, Pasos, Quarters, Arabs, Scrubs, Clydes…people think horses are dumb. They’re not. They’re picky.
“The Producers,” the original, with Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder.
Fireworks. Summer. Fireworks on a summer night.
New places, countries, languages, customs, life-styles.
Crossword puzzles finished without peeking.
Smell and sense of accomplishment from mowing that last strip of lawn.
Being an old guy with a young guy inside.
Corn rye bread, fresh sliced at a genuine Jewish deli. Deserves its own Ohmigod. Thank you, Sheldon.
Working, creating, with Marsha Posner Williams, my buddy.
LA Progressive. Every issue a fresh look at America the way it really is – warts, farts, bumps, bruises and all, with gut insights from knowledgeable wits who actually paid attention in English class. Not talking about my own stuff here, he wrote with false modesty. Just remember, “Every ship needs a loose cannon,” according to Aesculus.*
* Larry Aesculus, 21 dealer in Winnemucca, Nevada.
Mike Price is a long-time newspaper columnist, talk show host, and screenwriter who appears as a standup comedy headliner for top clubs and casinos across the country.