As of this writing, I’m sitting on the porch of “Condo 1” in Gardiner, Montana. Sun is out, I’m having my coffee.
Yesterday morning I woke up I was in Livingston, Montana. Here and there never know where I will be.
Partners working in the park, taking splendid pictures.
I’m struggling just to find anything to take a picture of, just to past at the time until we can break free.
In the meantime, I drive. Fly just landed on the banner and is looking at me.
Do flies look? It turns around. Walking down the banister now. And he’s off.
Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, complaining about. Well, not complaining, just nothing really to talk about.
I think it’s time Moe and I go to a bike park. Get out of town.
Get out of one of the town’s. Get out of all the towns. Just get the hell out of here.