My sister Mugs has a question about cameras, computers, and memory sticks.

I spent three hours recently talking with this guy and visiting this place, which he founded.

More about that later.

Yesterday evening we did the "paddle out" for my brother Paul, which is a surfer tradition of farewell.

Tonight I went, with Dear Wife, to a big-ole "slow food" pot luck dinner at the Ag Hall, which is a big-ole barn out in a field where they have the County Fair every summer and the Christmas pageant every winter.

Michael Pollan, author of "The Omnivore's Dilemma", gave a talk afterwards. Then a string band played.

the water.

In a clear violation of the principle of separation of church and state, a bunch of Tibetan monks of the Dalai Lama variety spent the last four days at Martha's Vineyard Regional High School, making a sand mandala, and then destroying it. This is their equivalent of the Catholic mass, with a sacrifice and all. It's an art show, but you no fool me. It's a religious ceremony first and foremost. Good whiney librul that I am, I was outraged by this incursion of religious mumbo-jumbo into the public arena.

NOT!

Man, it was so fucking cool!

In other news, I quit the Democratic Party again. This time perhaps for good.

I had a dream about Atreides and Welsh Girl last night. It took place at my home/private amusement park (kind of like a very scary Michael Jackson style Neverland). There was some confusion about where we were supposed to meet, but I finally caught up with them at the Millennium Falcon Ride, which you could only get to by crossing a moat. Atreides liked the ride a lot, but Welsh Girl thought it was stupid. She and I both kind of hated my house.

Welsh Girl was very tall, about 6'3", and not friendly. She was preoccupied with hers and Atreides' children, of which there were five: two each from a previous marriage, and the middle one, who was twelve years old and born last week, with an attitude.

As Welsh Girl turned strode away from me very quickly, I realized who she was:

Long long time ago, Dear Wife and I found ourselves in an elevator car in Boston along with four extremely tall gentlemen.

After they got out and we were out of earshot, she asked me, "Do you know who they were?"

I said, "Kurt Rambis, AC Green, Byron Scott, James Worthy."

She said, "Why didn't you say hello?"

I replied, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Please report status.

Also, it has been quite a damn while since you graced us with a diary about traveling on this particular run. What gives. Thanks.

(For those not in on the joke, this is role reversal. Usually it's K nagging me about not writing on schedule).

Went to a wedding today in a lovely Catholic church in Gardner, Massachusetts. The last time I was in that church was 14 months ago, when Older Daughter was baptized and confirmed into the Catholic faith (from which I fled 35 years ago).