To tell you the truth, there are times when I know why I do what I do, by which I mean, work as a barman, pour wine, chat a bit with those who might feel like a chat over a bar, basically keep an efficient system up and running, day in, day out, tonight, the organization of bottles for inventory. I come home, and walk around my magic street with my little cat. We lived at one address when she was a kitten, and then up the street, which is how we met Madam Korbonsky, who had love for both Tadzio and little Miss Kitty. There is lots to do on that first night, at the end of the week. I'll get in a bike ride, I'll have a glass of wine and later sing and play songs from a band from London with an Irish tradition brought up to present efforts of banging and shouting. I'll do some dishes, and begin the process of laundry maybe.

But I think I know sometimes why I do it, and it's this. One needs, as a man, to be able to feel that he can deal with people. This is the reassuring thing with bartending. They can throw at you what they want. They can show up in any number, and they can make you very busy. But ultimately, as you know, even as you are quite the peaceable side, that you will stand long, do what it takes, and that you will outlast them, or that, if worse comes to worse, that you have friends who are on your side.

Like Bono said, of a rock n roll band, basically, 'a street gang.' Politics at a gut level.

And when you've done that, then you go home, back to intellectual and cultural pursuit, and know, that you grew into something, that you expanded to be host to a larger band of people than you previously had, and maybe, in that sense, you wish to live forever, to keep growing.