Air

I live in the social purgatory of the San Fernando Valley, while my eldest daughter is bused to a charter school in the fantasy land of Bel Air.

I am deeply devoted to the 27,000 songs I can take anywhere on my iPod Classic as well as the exquisitely engineered MacBook Air on which I typed this column.

You leave part of yourself on every stage you're on. How could you not live in the air somehow?

For one thing there is the divinest, cleanest air to be breathed anywhere in God's world.

I'm like the female version of George Clooney in 'Up in the Air.' I have to have an eye mask, and Amore Pacific has this cream face mask that's moisturizing. Moisture is so important in the stuffy, dry air on a plane.

Whenever you look at light, basically it's just air. It has no tactileness to it. It's totally without density.

A lot of very successful businessmen share some of these sociopathic traits - a lack of empathy, seeing people as commodities, projecting an air of sincerity when everything is actually calculated.

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