With loss comes introspection, an affliction from which I’ve suffered all my life. What can I say: I muse in Hi-Def. That doesn’t mean I’m smarter than you; it just means that if I ever got tossed in a car trunk and driven across state lines, I could entertain myself well into cattle country. Interior monologues will do that to a fella. Not that I hear voices. That you know of, anyway… Now, where was I?

Oh yeah, my mastery of distraction and it’s many travel hazards. I’m already so reflective I can’t back out of the driveway without a few birds flying into my car. I can’t glance at my GPS without getting lost in thought. In the time it takes the yellow light to turn red, I can leave my body and fly around the block. Should a traffic jam ever block my progress, I usually go all Michael Stipe: crawling out on the top of some stranger’s Buick and cradling myself while the jangly guitars no one else can hear drown out all those annoying car horns… You can imagine how unpopular this makes me during rush hour. Yes, if life were a side-view mirror, I’d be double-parked in the middle distance.    

Which is why you’ll have to forgive me if I’ve lost focus as of late. An enchanted being I’ve come to rely on has vacated this realm and he left no forwarding address. I guess deep down inside I know where he is, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop searching the horizons for him any time soon.

Besides, I like the view.