He's a man...I've known a bunch of 'em...He looks good, dresses good, lives good, eats, drinks, loves, breathes, dances, sings, cries good. Barely in his twenties, he's been there already. No one is born sophisticated. It's a place you have to crawl to, crawling out of hayseed country, over miles of pavement, past Trouble, past corners and forks with no signs to point you, till you get there and wake up wiser.
He's arrived. He writes to you about the long crawl and makes you have to listen. He's there.
