Everybody out on the sidewalk is a pedestrian Mercedes, wallowing in entitlement—colliding, snarling, shoving ahead without even the hollow-to-begin-with local euphemism “Excuse me.

Geez, I wish I could tell you I had a whole bunch of &#39;80s hair bands, you know something you really wouldn&#39;t expect, but I don&#39;t know that the music police would be that surprised, because most of the stuff that I am influenced by is in evidence in the music.

Irv had rediscovered, as surprisingly few men do, that the secret to perfect male happiness is a well-equipped clubhouse.

Written By Michael Chabon

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