Looking for something better than porn and marijuana and amphetamines, I met a beautiful hearted beautiful girl at a friend's funeral. She had kayaks strapped to the top of her Ford Ranger. She wailed in the funeral home; fishing buddies they'd been in Alaska, and best friends, she would always take deaths hard. That was late August in Indiana, and come December we were packed in that Ford Ranger and headed for Mexico and other lands south of there we'd never been. She danced so happily when we first came upon the beech and the clear blue surf. We saw the ruins of another civilization all through Central America; what it all meant we didn't know. We ran out of steam in Honduras and landed on the former British colony of Utila. Fishing and bar-tending, and a great deal of sun, as well as tarantulas, scorpions, pirates, and sand flies. A culture of cheap cocaine and European tourists kept the locals from lower form of poverty. When we made our escape to America it was to Colorado, the purest form of it that still persists. And it was luscious and free there in the high rockies, cold and free, snowy dry and idyllic, with the sun always close and shining almost always except for in a blizzard, with that endless sky, sweet heaven. Our son was born a Colorado native at 9,000 feet. That boy is sweet perfection. Almost 3 years later and what am I doing back here in Indiana? Just trying to swap these alt coins into a sail boat. I just want my son to live an extraordinary life, learning about the world exploring the whole world. His mom is just as wild and free, eager to escape this cultural confinement with her baby and I. Funny how far it is to get where you are going. I figure as long as you do make it there, then its all right.
