Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver inspired young people to go to film school, and those, hoping to make America Great Again, might have stocked their car trunks with a small arsenal but avoided prison by finding love along the way. When you come from the country, and your first priority is looking for love, and you get a hack license, you find that as a hick or a hack, or a hoaxster, whose hooey consisted of learning a little Latin from your girlfriend and the New York City way of saying Houston Street by repeating a fare’s destination as Howdyston Street, you discover that when you are a lover, every day is the greatest day in America. And, though, not all girlfriends are as tall as Cybil Shepherd or close to a beau ideal like Jodie Foster, nevertheless, all are graced with the beauty and intelligence of Woman, and teach you that, though, you demonstrate all the physical manifestations of an ardent lover, the key to happiness is the expectation of future happiness. My hyperopia, which makes what is far seem too distant to worry about, and what is near too near for anything to be done about it, expressed itself as a muddle and my hack license carried me through to an undergraduate degree, and if I was not the brightest, I had the disincentive of life long unemployment and the tenacity to incentivize the act of throwing all my fuel on one fire, and this carried me through to the Ph.D. in British Romanticism. ‘Mike and Me, Body and Soul’ is a first book, something like ‘Travels with Charley’ (John Steinbeck!) meets ‘Sullivan’s Travels’ (Preston Sturges!) meets a Lost Generation (Gertrude Stein! F. Scott Fitzgerald! The Marx Brothers!) . . . correction . . . not that generation but the generation of gay men lost to AIDS and to my boyfriend Mike, who succumbed to complications from chronic HIV infection. But the commotion you hear outside the waiting room, threatening the vigil, is an unauthorized Marx Brothers meets the Three Stooges meets Abbot and Costello, with the singing voice of Jim Nabors meets Scorsese’s Taxi Driver.