I had a chance on Monday to walk down my Bahamian Memory Lane. As I mentioned the last time I was here, I had an appointment for an echo cardiogram on Monday afternoon. (The results: Heart is fine albeit dark and cold) The tech who administered the test was from Nassau. After wondering aloud how he ended up 135 miles north of the United States Of America (he was a temp), we talked about my frequent trips to the islands in the 70's. I had forgotten how much fun it was. At some point he asked me where I lived before coming back to Duluth. When I said San Francisco, he said, "I THOUGHT so!" I thought so? What? He went on to say I struck him as 'artsy'. ARTSY? The word the properly follows artsy is fartsy. Now, why didn't he think I was from Alaska and was a retired ice-road trucker? How about, "You're so butch I assumed you were a bronc rider from Texas." Next thing I expected him to compliment me on my child-bearing hips! Perhaps I shouldn't be so sensitive.

I may be violating another of the Cardinal Sins here. As you know, I don't do well on the Cardinal Sins. On the Ten Commandments I do better. I'm thinking. Isn't it REALLY thou shalt not murder? I know I haven't murdered. (except for several bottles of rum on some Bahamian beach back in the 70's) I'm trying to think about any graven images I've had before me. Hmmmm. Does that, like, include that huge Bob's Big Boy outside the restaurants? On questions of this sort I usually go to the source....Charleton Heston. He couldn't answer me. He was busy. Someone was trying to pry a rifle out of his hands.