Prize winner today—an email that poetic-prosely reminds us that where Thoreau thought we lived lives of quiet desperation, ain’t really so at all.
Hey Bob,
I’m back in E. Cornburg, and glad for it. S. CA was lovely and nice, and in MO I saw my friends and family (including 5 nieces between 14 and 24 who are each as desirable as anything god/nil every made). The poem I mentioned before–the protagonist of which was our adonais, Claude Alexander Corsair Dumont (or thereabouts)–is in the Failure-with-Promise category right now (taxonomically, ’tis the category within which I also reside–et tu Fancypants).
I hope you’re well or scheming thereward,
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