Fridays.

Seeing the Venetian skyline from the water taxi going into town from the airport. The clam sauce there isn’t bad, either.

My daughter’s face.

My daughters and a few others make me very happy.

Fun.

My animals. My brilliant and cuddly animals. Praise from people I admire. Doughnuts.

Watching animals behave. My pets especially, because I know them so well.

Hanging out with my pals and laughing. Going to a sunny island with Phil.

Going to the movies or theater with my young godson. Watching football with him. Playing games with him. Spending weekends with him at his country house on the beautiful Connecticut River. Planning for his future. Spoiling him. And, being with my host of good friends who mean more to me than any family I ever had!

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Certain movies. My son walking in from school and throwing down his duffel bag. Steven Sondheim. Broadway show albums from any era. E-mail where friends pop off and are hilarious. My instant-messaging friends. Work well-done. Shoes that are comfortable — I’m serious, shoes that are comfortable are a gift. A long walk, five miles or seven, uptown to down. Mass. Seeing my friend Tom in the back of mass. Babies. Babies. Babies. Dogs. Remembering Glopie the cat who, in her last days, had some sort of neurological disorder, and would walk into the room, see something that wasn’t there and jump on it and make it run away. Then she’d look over at me like, ‘I protected you again.’

My little boy’s laugh. A really good massage. Giving a job that allows me to give a voice to people who usually don’t have one.