BOS These are links to my various personal blogs:
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
LAX to BOS
Travelling through the stratospheric across America can in fact be quite pleasant on the whole, once the airbus has actually taken to the sky of course. I've always particularly looked forward to that special moment when the flight attendant undocks her small trolley and begins offering the captive survivors her 'service' of measured ration consisting of half portions soda with minute packets of salted mystery snack. As the flight time for my Los Angeles to Boston adventure was pre-estimated by ticket computer at approximately five and one-half hours, what promised to be our main course would surely be reserved for serving somewheres above the city of Chicago, still many hours away. I happily decided to pass on the onboard 'nouveau dysenterie' in favour of an anonymous lobster presently lying calmly within it's crustacean death-row at some fine Boston bistro. That decision, as it turned out, was an excellent one, as the eventual airborne piece de résistance seemed to consist of a vague rouge-coloured lacquer spread over a minute grey portion of an unknown flesh astride blackish vegetables. Yum.
Arrival at Boston's Logan in the early evening was uneventful enough weather-wise, with merely a light rain marring the event. Unfortunately for this leg of my journey I would not be met by the likes of my LA chauffeur, Jesus, and thus had to resort to commandeering my own ground transportation to reach my destination. I would soon discover what life without my friend Jesus was going to be like at the 'Hub of the Universe'.
There most certainly can be nothing half so exciting as a night ride aboard a Boston taxi, and once my driver and I had each managed the apparent lack of a common tongue, I was able with some success to gesture towards my destination using the rather small chart of the Beacon Hill area I fortunately had the foresight to have printed out prior from 'Google'. Actually, despite his lack of familiarity with 'English', my 'driver' turned out to be rather a charmer, as I believe he attempted during my brief ride to invite me out on several imagined 'dates'. I replied, motioned more like, that he should not perhaps make plans including myself in his harem just yet, as I expected to be quite busy on my holiday in the City. Upon arrival at my destination on Joy Street, settling the fare and going our separate ways, the 'driver' seemed less than credulous that I should actually be leaving him. Alas, as is always the case, the love which is lost tends to be the deepest and most sweet.
One of my few long-term female American friends, Beatrice, had graciously invited me to come visit and stay as her guest at her Beacon Hill flat during the course of my spring holiday. Though I've certainly appreciated 'Bea' over our long but loose association, I was wrestling with the underlying reasons behind her unexpected offer for me to stop by and why just now. It wasn't so much that I am unable to accept gracious invites, rather I sensed something unspoken was afoot.I rang the bell to her residence from the relative safety of the building's foyer and expected to be met by a greeting of her marvellously sweet edged American voice, but the loud buzz of the remote lock opening the inner security door was my only response. I entered and managed to find my way to elevator, floor and the door to her flat easily enough, knocked and waited a moment for entrance. But as the door opened, I was met by the most unexpected and wonderful of surprises. JJ! My sweet and dear J.J. Wells from London herself greeted me at the door! Her smile was as infectious as ever and as I immediately dropped my garment and shoulder bags upon the threshold, tears welled up in both of our eyes and we embraced one another. JJ slowly released her grip and stepped back looking me up and down and at last cried, 'My dear missing misanthrope! What have you been doing with your pernicious self?'
I had not seen this lovely exception to the rule of entropy in our universe since shortly before my departure from London towards the end of the last millennium. I needed to rummage for a hankie before even attempting to produce a reply and even then it consisted simply of a tear soaked smile and kiss. 'So please Elisha, tell me all of your marvellous adventures and misadventures amongst the natives of the Caribbean and the San Francisco Bay. You must tell me all!' I was speechless as I wiped away most of my hard-earned mascara with tears of joy. 'And now I do believe you've exited the land of the Angels as well. How do you manage these extraordinary events when your poor old maidened friend must remain content to waste away in the backwaters and debauchery of London?'
I was at a total loss to understand how Beatrice had been able to manage this most wonderful coup. Getting JJ and myself together was not an easy task, and in Boston of all places. I turned to Bea and explained how sweet she was and she in turn tilted my head slightly downward and kissed my forehead. 'Now Elisha, JJ had a feeling we could tug on your strings at your home on the coast and if we managed to tug hard and long enough, it would fetch you to my doorstep eventually. We knew you couldn't resist it my dear.'
I began to realise that these two must have worked the 'client' into becoming a co-conspirator after the fact as well, no small task in itself. When I pointed this out to Bea, she merely grinned back and offered, 'No one is ever completely out of my reach dear.'
JJ, now quite back in control of herself quickly offered, 'Elisha, you must spruce yourself up a bit my dear, as our Bea has gone out of her way inviting some rather important people to this dinner and all in your honour. Now, be the good girl and please try to put a better face on yourself before the guests make their appearance. We shouldn't wish any to imagine we're here to honour a special effect, now would we dear.'
I gave JJ a last brief kiss on those cheekiest of cheeks and followed her to my room.Living on Joy StreetBeatrice's rather grand flat was set in the midst of Joy Street literally in the shadow of the Great Massachusetts State House dome, the actual 'hub' Oliver Wendell Holmes was imagining in his somewhat provincial view of the universe. As I entered the dinning area, hired staff were busy running about in hopeless pursuit of meeting Bea's every and unending details for the event. 'No, that business fellow must be seated here, immediately across from Elisha, our guest of honour. Do you understand? And JJ, her dear friend, must be seated just at her side. That should make for some good cross pollination in the conversations, don't you agree Elisha?' I nodded politely as the Boston social fire drill continued. 'Now, as for the others, I think we should place them boy, girl, boy, girl all along the edge of the table. Is this understood?'
I quietly exited from centre stage to catch JJ before opening night performances commenced in earnest at what was quickly becoming Bea's off-Broadway Joy Street theatre. I managed to catch her by the hem of the lovely dark midnight blue skirt she was wearing, and tugged her to rights. 'Elisha,' she whispered as she turned. 'Now out with all the secrets and scandal, I must have it all. Any conquests of note in your California journey?'
I offered I had only recently relocated from my rather novelised version of a flat in San Francisco for new digs across the Gold Gate in Marin less than a month prior, and thus had not yet managed to snag that life-changing person in my life - man or woman, though I had high hopes for a small field of front-runners. 'Why that sounds absolutely ominous! So should one be wagering on the leading stud or bitch at this point my dear?'
I certainly had no wish to exacerbate JJ's tendency for making something out of nothing, so I immediately redirect the topic of our conversation. I inquired on the social life surrounding her St. Anne's Court back in London and how it had progressed since my departure. JJ smiled and offered, 'Dear Elisha, since your leaving the get-togethers have definitely acquired a new flavour, one of consummation my dear.' She concluded adding her most wry smile. So the intervening six and a half years had produced little change for my JJ. I think I envied her for that.
I barely had enough time to touch myself up a bit and bring a semblance of order back to face and hair, when I heard the guests begin to arrive. JJ and I entered as greetings, coat-takings and introductions were being exchanged and took our seats with the others at the well appointed and impressive table. From appearances, the guest list had perhaps been drawn from a 'Who's Who' of the eastern United States. It was impressive.
The man whom came for dinner
For the most part dinner progressed uneventfully enough, and would have concluded that way had it not been for the rather large ruddy faced man seated immediately across from JJ and myself. After consuming more than his share of the table's wines, he began to elaborate loudly and in excruciating detail of the many great investments he had made for himself of late. It appeared the vast majority of his present income was derived from various schemes involving petroleum resource management firms apparently making their 'killings', as he put it, across the wastes of Iraq's oilfields. Suddenly the social and economic despotism of Saddam Hussein was beginning to look like pleasant nostalgia to myself, but I somehow continues to smile though making doubly sure the wine decanter at our side of the table was kept within arm's reach, just in case. It was becoming apparent that my remaining polite and introspect during the course of this dinner was going to become quite the challenge.
JJ, seated immediately next to me, slipped off her shoes and began to slowly and methodically swing a foot to and fro gently brushing against my shin as the prig of a man seated across the table from us maintained his profane social monologue. I shall relate it as best I can though I've absolutely no desire to document it beyond this cautionary tale.
'Now if I had a piece of advice to offer you, my girl, it would be to invest in one of our companies now in Iraq. For the sake of your personal portfolio you definitely should and while the getting's good. This kind of opportunity won't last forever you know. It's really a gold rush right now there if you know where to look, believe me. So how are you enjoying being in our Land of the Free, and on all days, our own Massachusetts's Patriots Day? But you being British, you probably appreciate how we American's treasure freedom above all else. I mean it's part of who we are as a people and you know what? If you have the time, you should visit around town here and learn more about all of that. You might even learn something. You know, how it all began and the rights of man and all. Great stuff, isn't it?. You know, after all, its been left to us to become the stewards of the world's resources, you know, to make sure they're used in the best way. It's all in better and more reliable hands now I can tell you. Don't you agree? Yes, it's been freedom that's let us Americans, and some of our friends as well, to really excel in business throughout the world. And don't think it hasn't benefited others too.' And as the pathetic fat idiot concluded his diatribe, to my total disbelief, he actually winked at me.
JJ's foot pendulum was beginning to mark my stocking with it's incessant swing so I took her by the hand stopping the attempts at under table semaphore. I was so wishing dinner could be brought to an immediate end, but that seemed unlikely, while a better part was attempting to imagine a polite way to extricate myself from this living version of a roadside explosive device, a worse part was contemplating a targeted response.
Unfortunately I tend to listen to my worse part, but before I could speak 'he' continued, '...and the bridge at Concord, that's quite nearby you know. That's where the shot was fired heard round the world, Paul Revere's ride and all that. My girl, haven't you heard any of these stories before? And you know, those patriots were actually shooting at the British. Isn't that something, I mean here you and I have been having this wonderful dinner conversation in Boston and all that history lying around waiting for you to discover it. But I'm sorry to hear about those Brit sailors who got caught by the Iranians a few weeks back. I mean that's got to be hard for you in England people, right? But you know that's just the cost we all have to pay for a world of freedom. Knowing that makes it a little easier, I guess.'
Unbelievably the ruddy fellow immediately pushed his great self up and out from his chair and began raising his glass as if in toast. 'Here's to freedom, liberty and the Brits, gentlemen all. God love 'em for all their faults as there's nothing quite like a gentleman as I've often said. Here here to the Brits!'
And as that creature smirked and held its glass high poised for a toast, I took one last short drink from my own glass and stood to better look directly into his face. JJ got the drift of what I intended as she whispered up towards me, 'No Elisha. Please dear, just sit down and let us have none of this tonight. For Bea's sake? Please, I beg of you', and she gave the arm of my blouse a sharp tug. I heard her quite well, but was still working out precisely what was required to be done here, and was certainly getting motivated to do so. I held my still half filled glass containing its fine deep Burgundy and imaged myself flinging it into that ghastly excuse for a man's face standing before me. How I was able to not actually perform the act is beyond me. Perhaps it was for Beatrice's sake, as JJ had implored, perhaps for lack of personal conviction, but for one reason or the other, I paused, drew a deep breath and returned to my seat with glass and wine still in hand.
As that great mistake for a man regained his seat once again, JJ suddenly reached across the table as if to retrieve the nearly full wine decanter and it promptly spilt over and poured directly towards the lap of that seated and smirking oaf. She threw a quick knowing glance up towards my eyes as she gave a quick smile and immediately shouted, 'Oh my goodness, I am most sorry! How careless of me, I do beg your pardon. I am so sorry about this. Please forgive me. Is there something...here, take my napkin,' and she continued as several of the service staff attempted to come to the rescue. The man, now ruddier than ever, slowly got to his feet and stood motionless with legs spread wide and rather gingerly apart. He was immediately escorted by Bea and one of the staff to recover his dignity in another room. All the while he spoke not a word but his gaze was locked onto a slightly smiling and nearly giggling J.J. Wells. I do believe as he exited the room she even briefly stuck her sweet tongue out in his direction, the incorrigible sprite!
The very words 'freedom' and 'liberty' being spoken by such a man were an affront to sensibility and dignity everywhere. How many more such creatures as this clutter our landscapes and what tragedies being played out across our planet are tied like so many unseen figures to their balance sheets, I couldn't begin to imagine. Are they simply part of some global economic conspiracy? I fear it is worse, far worse. To he and his ilk, the rest of us are merely part of an extended 'portfolio' required to meet out expectations of lifestyle at all costs. The world suffers to supply the financial support for an entire class of people so removed from the rest that it transcends imagination. In the face of such truths, global warming itself seems reduced to a mere inconvenience, for herein lay the real decay of our world's 'environment'. Such people don't merely swim amongst sharks, rather they simultaneously copulate with and eat whole peoples, and do so for pleasure and at their leisure.Perhaps I had at long last overstayed my welcome on this 'island'.
Travelling through the stratospheric across America can in fact be quite pleasant on the whole, once the airbus has actually taken to the sky of course. I've always particularly looked forward to that special moment when the flight attendant undocks her small trolley and begins offering the captive survivors her 'service' of measured ration consisting of half portions soda with minute packets of salted mystery snack. As the flight time for my Los Angeles to Boston adventure was pre-estimated by ticket computer at approximately five and one-half hours, what promised to be our main course would surely be reserved for serving somewheres above the city of Chicago, still many hours away. I happily decided to pass on the onboard 'nouveau dysenterie' in favour of an anonymous lobster presently lying calmly within it's crustacean death-row at some fine Boston bistro. That decision, as it turned out, was an excellent one, as the eventual airborne piece de résistance seemed to consist of a vague rouge-coloured lacquer spread over a minute grey portion of an unknown flesh astride blackish vegetables. Yum.
Arrival at Boston's Logan in the early evening was uneventful enough weather-wise, with merely a light rain marring the event. Unfortunately for this leg of my journey I would not be met by the likes of my LA chauffeur, Jesus, and thus had to resort to commandeering my own ground transportation to reach my destination. I would soon discover what life without my friend Jesus was going to be like at the 'Hub of the Universe'.
There most certainly can be nothing half so exciting as a night ride aboard a Boston taxi, and once my driver and I had each managed the apparent lack of a common tongue, I was able with some success to gesture towards my destination using the rather small chart of the Beacon Hill area I fortunately had the foresight to have printed out prior from 'Google'. Actually, despite his lack of familiarity with 'English', my 'driver' turned out to be rather a charmer, as I believe he attempted during my brief ride to invite me out on several imagined 'dates'. I replied, motioned more like, that he should not perhaps make plans including myself in his harem just yet, as I expected to be quite busy on my holiday in the City. Upon arrival at my destination on Joy Street, settling the fare and going our separate ways, the 'driver' seemed less than credulous that I should actually be leaving him. Alas, as is always the case, the love which is lost tends to be the deepest and most sweet.
One of my few long-term female American friends, Beatrice, had graciously invited me to come visit and stay as her guest at her Beacon Hill flat during the course of my spring holiday. Though I've certainly appreciated 'Bea' over our long but loose association, I was wrestling with the underlying reasons behind her unexpected offer for me to stop by and why just now. It wasn't so much that I am unable to accept gracious invites, rather I sensed something unspoken was afoot.I rang the bell to her residence from the relative safety of the building's foyer and expected to be met by a greeting of her marvellously sweet edged American voice, but the loud buzz of the remote lock opening the inner security door was my only response. I entered and managed to find my way to elevator, floor and the door to her flat easily enough, knocked and waited a moment for entrance. But as the door opened, I was met by the most unexpected and wonderful of surprises. JJ! My sweet and dear J.J. Wells from London herself greeted me at the door! Her smile was as infectious as ever and as I immediately dropped my garment and shoulder bags upon the threshold, tears welled up in both of our eyes and we embraced one another. JJ slowly released her grip and stepped back looking me up and down and at last cried, 'My dear missing misanthrope! What have you been doing with your pernicious self?'
I had not seen this lovely exception to the rule of entropy in our universe since shortly before my departure from London towards the end of the last millennium. I needed to rummage for a hankie before even attempting to produce a reply and even then it consisted simply of a tear soaked smile and kiss. 'So please Elisha, tell me all of your marvellous adventures and misadventures amongst the natives of the Caribbean and the San Francisco Bay. You must tell me all!' I was speechless as I wiped away most of my hard-earned mascara with tears of joy. 'And now I do believe you've exited the land of the Angels as well. How do you manage these extraordinary events when your poor old maidened friend must remain content to waste away in the backwaters and debauchery of London?'
I was at a total loss to understand how Beatrice had been able to manage this most wonderful coup. Getting JJ and myself together was not an easy task, and in Boston of all places. I turned to Bea and explained how sweet she was and she in turn tilted my head slightly downward and kissed my forehead. 'Now Elisha, JJ had a feeling we could tug on your strings at your home on the coast and if we managed to tug hard and long enough, it would fetch you to my doorstep eventually. We knew you couldn't resist it my dear.'
I began to realise that these two must have worked the 'client' into becoming a co-conspirator after the fact as well, no small task in itself. When I pointed this out to Bea, she merely grinned back and offered, 'No one is ever completely out of my reach dear.'
JJ, now quite back in control of herself quickly offered, 'Elisha, you must spruce yourself up a bit my dear, as our Bea has gone out of her way inviting some rather important people to this dinner and all in your honour. Now, be the good girl and please try to put a better face on yourself before the guests make their appearance. We shouldn't wish any to imagine we're here to honour a special effect, now would we dear.'
I gave JJ a last brief kiss on those cheekiest of cheeks and followed her to my room.Living on Joy StreetBeatrice's rather grand flat was set in the midst of Joy Street literally in the shadow of the Great Massachusetts State House dome, the actual 'hub' Oliver Wendell Holmes was imagining in his somewhat provincial view of the universe. As I entered the dinning area, hired staff were busy running about in hopeless pursuit of meeting Bea's every and unending details for the event. 'No, that business fellow must be seated here, immediately across from Elisha, our guest of honour. Do you understand? And JJ, her dear friend, must be seated just at her side. That should make for some good cross pollination in the conversations, don't you agree Elisha?' I nodded politely as the Boston social fire drill continued. 'Now, as for the others, I think we should place them boy, girl, boy, girl all along the edge of the table. Is this understood?'
I quietly exited from centre stage to catch JJ before opening night performances commenced in earnest at what was quickly becoming Bea's off-Broadway Joy Street theatre. I managed to catch her by the hem of the lovely dark midnight blue skirt she was wearing, and tugged her to rights. 'Elisha,' she whispered as she turned. 'Now out with all the secrets and scandal, I must have it all. Any conquests of note in your California journey?'
I offered I had only recently relocated from my rather novelised version of a flat in San Francisco for new digs across the Gold Gate in Marin less than a month prior, and thus had not yet managed to snag that life-changing person in my life - man or woman, though I had high hopes for a small field of front-runners. 'Why that sounds absolutely ominous! So should one be wagering on the leading stud or bitch at this point my dear?'
I certainly had no wish to exacerbate JJ's tendency for making something out of nothing, so I immediately redirect the topic of our conversation. I inquired on the social life surrounding her St. Anne's Court back in London and how it had progressed since my departure. JJ smiled and offered, 'Dear Elisha, since your leaving the get-togethers have definitely acquired a new flavour, one of consummation my dear.' She concluded adding her most wry smile. So the intervening six and a half years had produced little change for my JJ. I think I envied her for that.
I barely had enough time to touch myself up a bit and bring a semblance of order back to face and hair, when I heard the guests begin to arrive. JJ and I entered as greetings, coat-takings and introductions were being exchanged and took our seats with the others at the well appointed and impressive table. From appearances, the guest list had perhaps been drawn from a 'Who's Who' of the eastern United States. It was impressive.
The man whom came for dinner
For the most part dinner progressed uneventfully enough, and would have concluded that way had it not been for the rather large ruddy faced man seated immediately across from JJ and myself. After consuming more than his share of the table's wines, he began to elaborate loudly and in excruciating detail of the many great investments he had made for himself of late. It appeared the vast majority of his present income was derived from various schemes involving petroleum resource management firms apparently making their 'killings', as he put it, across the wastes of Iraq's oilfields. Suddenly the social and economic despotism of Saddam Hussein was beginning to look like pleasant nostalgia to myself, but I somehow continues to smile though making doubly sure the wine decanter at our side of the table was kept within arm's reach, just in case. It was becoming apparent that my remaining polite and introspect during the course of this dinner was going to become quite the challenge.
JJ, seated immediately next to me, slipped off her shoes and began to slowly and methodically swing a foot to and fro gently brushing against my shin as the prig of a man seated across the table from us maintained his profane social monologue. I shall relate it as best I can though I've absolutely no desire to document it beyond this cautionary tale.
'Now if I had a piece of advice to offer you, my girl, it would be to invest in one of our companies now in Iraq. For the sake of your personal portfolio you definitely should and while the getting's good. This kind of opportunity won't last forever you know. It's really a gold rush right now there if you know where to look, believe me. So how are you enjoying being in our Land of the Free, and on all days, our own Massachusetts's Patriots Day? But you being British, you probably appreciate how we American's treasure freedom above all else. I mean it's part of who we are as a people and you know what? If you have the time, you should visit around town here and learn more about all of that. You might even learn something. You know, how it all began and the rights of man and all. Great stuff, isn't it?. You know, after all, its been left to us to become the stewards of the world's resources, you know, to make sure they're used in the best way. It's all in better and more reliable hands now I can tell you. Don't you agree? Yes, it's been freedom that's let us Americans, and some of our friends as well, to really excel in business throughout the world. And don't think it hasn't benefited others too.' And as the pathetic fat idiot concluded his diatribe, to my total disbelief, he actually winked at me.
JJ's foot pendulum was beginning to mark my stocking with it's incessant swing so I took her by the hand stopping the attempts at under table semaphore. I was so wishing dinner could be brought to an immediate end, but that seemed unlikely, while a better part was attempting to imagine a polite way to extricate myself from this living version of a roadside explosive device, a worse part was contemplating a targeted response.
Unfortunately I tend to listen to my worse part, but before I could speak 'he' continued, '...and the bridge at Concord, that's quite nearby you know. That's where the shot was fired heard round the world, Paul Revere's ride and all that. My girl, haven't you heard any of these stories before? And you know, those patriots were actually shooting at the British. Isn't that something, I mean here you and I have been having this wonderful dinner conversation in Boston and all that history lying around waiting for you to discover it. But I'm sorry to hear about those Brit sailors who got caught by the Iranians a few weeks back. I mean that's got to be hard for you in England people, right? But you know that's just the cost we all have to pay for a world of freedom. Knowing that makes it a little easier, I guess.'
Unbelievably the ruddy fellow immediately pushed his great self up and out from his chair and began raising his glass as if in toast. 'Here's to freedom, liberty and the Brits, gentlemen all. God love 'em for all their faults as there's nothing quite like a gentleman as I've often said. Here here to the Brits!'
And as that creature smirked and held its glass high poised for a toast, I took one last short drink from my own glass and stood to better look directly into his face. JJ got the drift of what I intended as she whispered up towards me, 'No Elisha. Please dear, just sit down and let us have none of this tonight. For Bea's sake? Please, I beg of you', and she gave the arm of my blouse a sharp tug. I heard her quite well, but was still working out precisely what was required to be done here, and was certainly getting motivated to do so. I held my still half filled glass containing its fine deep Burgundy and imaged myself flinging it into that ghastly excuse for a man's face standing before me. How I was able to not actually perform the act is beyond me. Perhaps it was for Beatrice's sake, as JJ had implored, perhaps for lack of personal conviction, but for one reason or the other, I paused, drew a deep breath and returned to my seat with glass and wine still in hand.
As that great mistake for a man regained his seat once again, JJ suddenly reached across the table as if to retrieve the nearly full wine decanter and it promptly spilt over and poured directly towards the lap of that seated and smirking oaf. She threw a quick knowing glance up towards my eyes as she gave a quick smile and immediately shouted, 'Oh my goodness, I am most sorry! How careless of me, I do beg your pardon. I am so sorry about this. Please forgive me. Is there something...here, take my napkin,' and she continued as several of the service staff attempted to come to the rescue. The man, now ruddier than ever, slowly got to his feet and stood motionless with legs spread wide and rather gingerly apart. He was immediately escorted by Bea and one of the staff to recover his dignity in another room. All the while he spoke not a word but his gaze was locked onto a slightly smiling and nearly giggling J.J. Wells. I do believe as he exited the room she even briefly stuck her sweet tongue out in his direction, the incorrigible sprite!
The very words 'freedom' and 'liberty' being spoken by such a man were an affront to sensibility and dignity everywhere. How many more such creatures as this clutter our landscapes and what tragedies being played out across our planet are tied like so many unseen figures to their balance sheets, I couldn't begin to imagine. Are they simply part of some global economic conspiracy? I fear it is worse, far worse. To he and his ilk, the rest of us are merely part of an extended 'portfolio' required to meet out expectations of lifestyle at all costs. The world suffers to supply the financial support for an entire class of people so removed from the rest that it transcends imagination. In the face of such truths, global warming itself seems reduced to a mere inconvenience, for herein lay the real decay of our world's 'environment'. Such people don't merely swim amongst sharks, rather they simultaneously copulate with and eat whole peoples, and do so for pleasure and at their leisure.Perhaps I had at long last overstayed my welcome on this 'island'.
You may reach Elisha by e-mail at: elisha.moor@gmail.com
All writings and images © Copyright 2010 by the author, Elisha A. Moor
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