One night in early April, 199?
Lucky called from Checotah, Oklahoma. All of his cows had calves. They're all red and there's 33 of them. His dog, Slick, is running around, beside himself, yipping and nipping at every hoof.
Robert called from Traverse City, Michigan. A big blizzard blew in off the Lake and he'd just got done plowing 8 inches of snow off his 1/4 mile driveway.
Andy called from West Virginia. He was having a couple of beers and watching the light change on the mountains.
Elizabeth called from Maryland. She just had a baby boy. She lives by the harbor and the air is clean.
Michael called from Chicago. He was taping Sean Tyrell's CD for me just as I was about to tape it for him. It's cold and windy and he's gonna start opening computer centers for underprivileged kids.
Paul called from New York. His film about politics in America ("Vote For ME") has run short of funds, but they are persevering.
My mother called from Hawaii. It's balmy but not quite warm enough to swim every day. She has to have surgery on her arm.
Linda called from New Orleans. She told me it was a rough Mardi Gras this year. Three people shot at the Bacchus parade, right in front of Houston's restaurant on St. Charles. Parade routes were changed, no one slept, many people stayed at her house.
Colleen called from Florida. She's moved there from Virginia. She can walk anywhere she needs to go, and the weather is consistently fine. She escaped from a roommate who was attacking her.
Melissa called form Eugene. She has a new man now and she might marry him because he is good to her and he can be happy outdoors in any kind of weather.
For the first time in many years--maybe the first time ever--I had trouble getting back into the U.S. The passport lady smiled and said "welcome back." But the gentleman who stood by the customs inspector was not so glad to see me. He asked, "are you visiting our country?" "no," I told him, "I live in our country." Then he proceeded to ask me many other questions presumably with the aim of forcing me to reveal all of my habits, good and evil. "what is that?" pointing to me tourmaiine crystal pendant. "what is that?" pointing to my new celtic knot pin. "why do you have bags under your eyes?" pointing at the bags under my eyes.. I took my hands out of the deep empty pockets of my worn leather coat. I smoothed my hair. I touched my face to see if there were tears...yes.
And again I felt it. Ah. when I was a kid we lived in Denmark. I knew it was wrong when we left.