My Youngest Uncle Randy And I Were

A Man's Got To Take Care Of His Family. You Live In My House, You Sleep Your Behind On My Bedclothes, You Put My Food In Your Belly Because You Are My Son; You Are My Flesh And Blood, Not Because I Like You. It Is My Duty To Take Care Of You. I Owe A Responsibility To You.

Ray, People Will Come Ray. They'll Come To Iowa For Reasons They Can't Even Fathom. They'll Turn Up Your Driveway Not Knowing For Sure Why They're Doing It. They'll Arrive At Your Door As Innocent As Children, Longing For The Past. Of Course, We Won't Mind If You Look Around, You'll Say. It's Only $20 Per Person. They'll Pass Over The Money Without Even Thinking About It: For It Is Money They Have And Peace They Lack.

We Children Learned Responsibility Automatically.

I Knew Real Show Business From My Father, Who Had Been An Actor Since He Left The World Of Boxing.

My Grandmother Though, Began To Prepare In Her Own Neurotic - And I Think Psychotic - Way To Face Racism. So She Taught Us To Be Racist, Which Is Something I Had To Undo Later When I Got To Michigan, You Know.