Photos of Dover and Sandwich

Photos of my recent trip visiting my friend Bern and his lady Jo in Kent and eating a lot of food. It is a story that starts with a sandwich (actually first there's a bus, but you have to get to the sandwich somehow), goes to Sandwich, and ends with a sandwich. It's a love story. And it's here.

Oh, and there's a video too. 

IKEA Table

"What do you want to do about the table?" Carol asks me.

I look down at the butcher block IKEA table. She's caught me in a lie. I've been going on and on about not being attached to stuff and complaining about the mountains of buttons, handbags, old checks, and carpet remnants that she's held on to in the house that's hers now since both our parents passed away.



The gypsies, waiting on the siding, threw heavy bricks against my window. I had been warned by ex-pats that the night train from Munich to Prague was still dangerous, but I had ignored them because the departure time had afforded me a couple of extra hours of humiliation with Tanja. 


A Dream I Had

asleep, but knowing i should get up because i closed my eyes at 8 and i have to be up by 8:30. i feel the floor moving.



I am trying to sleep on Marty's bed, but sleep will not come. It's nine a.m., and we've been up all night. The sunlight streams into his room, which lies at the edge of the fashionable down-market part of Prague, near the giant Bauhaus church with the clock that doesn't work, and the park out front that's full of toothless men who don't wear shirts in the summer heat.