In my imagination, I know exactly how it goes. Bedecked in nothing but a ragged top hat, a pair of cashmere socks and a tremulous snakehipped boy, I finally breathe my quavering last in a secluded riad, ravaged by a life of intellectual and sensual excess. As weeping acolytes pile in to preserve any secreted scraps of unpublished prose, one sobbing lover burrows ‘neath the Nobel, pushes aside the Pulitzer, and nudges away the nest ...

Over at AlterNet, I really dug this article called The Huxtable Effect and Obama. The Cosby show was a big deal from my family. It was the first time that a black family was portrayed on American tv as normal, educated and middle class with both comedy and drama. I considered myself fortunate in that I got to come home to a dad that was actually warmer, smarter, kinder and funnier than even Dr. Bill ...