I don't drink water, haven't drank water in 40 years.

In the nineties, everybody wants to talk about their rights and privileges. Twenty-five years ago, people talked about their obligations and responsibilities.

I was born January 6, 1937, eight years after Wall Street crashed and two years before John Steinbeck published The Grapes of Wrath, his Pulitzer Prize-winning novel about the plight of a family during the Great Depression.

Water is my drink.

Water is starting to drain off in places along rivers and creeks.

When they didn't drink, their lives together were better. When they drank it would ruin everything.