I’ll never work again.
I wonder who invented the hammock? God bless him or her.
Have you ever really looked at your bare feet? Strange-looking appendages. Why ten toes? Why not 6? Or 21?
I just had a conversation with a fly. It didn’t answer me directly, but I’m sure we communicated on some level. Flies apparently aren’t allowed by Mother Nature to speak to humans. Too bad. The stories they could tell.
I know, the cloud-shape thing is a cliché, but one shaped like a 1966 Volkswagen beetle convertible full of bears wearing sombreros? Isn’t that unique?
Things to Do Today: Make “Things to Do Today” list… On second thought, never mind.
Everything comes from somebody’s garden here: Vegetables, greens, herbs, chicken, fish, outboard motors, auto parts. I found a lug-nut in my salad the other day.
Big shark scare at the beach a couple of days ago. It turned out to be a false alarm. They filmed “Jaws” here in the Seventies, and there are a lot of old hippies still around from that time, hanging out at the beach and having acid flashbacks.
When and if I go back home:
1 Fill my shoes with sand, to approximate the sensation of walking on the beach.
2 Wear dark glasses constantly.
3 Put on sunscreen every day, no matter what the weather.
4 Take home a handful of mosquitos.
While swimming in the ocean this morning, I got stung by a jellyfish. I was a little upset, even though the jellyfish apologized. Then I remembered, it’s more his ocean than mine and I suppose he has the right to defend himself from a big, opaque blob which is thrashing around in the water and re-arranging all the furniture in his living-room.
I promised to post any cartoon-related news I encountered here, so I will tell you that I saw Jules Feiffer a few days ago. He was hard at work in the idea garden at his Summer house, weeding out inkstains and a few bad metaphors which had somehow crept into the neat rows of incisive social commentary and magical children’s dreams which were thriving there.
I saw Paul Karasik, too, emerging from a dip in the inky waters of Comix Cove, after which he spread his wings and flew off to Comics-Com in San Diego, where he’s a contender for an Eisner Award or two.
The last two weeks has made it apparent to me: The world is a wonderful place. I’m feeling so connected to my fellow humans! I love everybody. I’m going to pack up this state of mind and take it with me when I go home.
Well, the time has come. My delicious vacation feast has been all but devoured. I’m savoring the last few bites as I sit here in this charming little Island airport, waiting for my flight to be called. I see my fellow travelers, busily checking their bags, kissing their loved ones, finding and losing their boarding passes, and all the other stuff we do when we fly away somewhere. All of us going our separate ways but all of us linked by an unconscious spiritual bond, sharing the planet and all our little worries and concerns. We are one. “I am you and you are me and we are all together….dum dum dee dum…..”
I hear an announcement.
Oh, no! Not again! My plane has been delayed. I hate this! How the hell am I going to make my connection in Boston? I’ll probably end up sleeping all night on the floor at Logan with one eye open so no one steals my bags. They don’t even put you up in a hotel anymore, the bastards! No more trips for me. Flying has become a goddamned nightmare!