I need some hush.

That's what my son (then three years old) told us one evening, driving home from a visit to the grandparents. Of course, at the time, he had been the one making 90 percent of the noise. Figures.

But I thought it was funny that someone that age would even perceive a need for quiet. I thought it was just old, cranky types who did that. And then I realized I've always been old and cranky, even when I was a kid. So maybe he will become a solitude-craving, creative person, too.

Poor little guy.

Maybe when he's my age, he'll look around one day and wonder, "Where did all these people come from?"

I'm still on Salinger, of course. "In the world but not of it." I totally get that. But the problem with maintaining that over a lifetime, I think, is that at some point you're not even in the world anymore. Right? It worked for him. I guess. And as I said the other day, he was entitled to live however he wanted to live; I'm just glad he popped in for a little while and left his mark. Kind of a signpost for the rest of us, right?

Is it possible to hover someplace between "in" and "of"? I wonder. Seems like an interesting vantage point, anyway.

New installment of Brave Front.