Great stuff, as always…

–M

Hey, Skipp, I’ll bet you get past foyers all the way to the penthouse and the inner sanctums. Me, I usually walk into a closet or get led to the basement. Of course, that beats the bathrooms.

And, Frank, yeah, I know I’m a bit on the edge with some of the stuff I do, but that’s just ’cause addictions build tolerance and I’ve been addicted to nature and physical activity for a long time. Principals apply at any level, though. All you really need is people. It’s like that time in the Bahamas. You and Karen stayed on the beach and counted stars and I played with the sharks, but we all found whatever else was to be found on that island and it was damn near the whole universe.

Thanks, all!

– Sully (Thomas Sullivan)

But, man, even though you are contagious and your spirit elbows everything else aside, not everyone is you, though I suspect, more than a handful wish they were. It is easy to get wrapped in your exuberance. At the very least the ride will be wild and the course uncharted.

Keep cool, man. Summer is on the way.

Frank

Magnificent, indeed.

And much as I loved the entire vivid journey, the line that stuck with me hardest was “If you can’t disarm fears, don’t expect to get past the foyers of other people’s lives.”

Just another diaphonous but startlingly apt layer on your already infinitely layered cake.

Thanks for sharing the actual experience of being alive.

Yer pal,
Skipp

Janet

And, Davey, thank you for reminding me of my roots. Yeah, the woods came later and you are so right about the vitality of people/stories being vested in urban jungles as opposed to the woodsy type. I lived the streets and alleys for most of my life, and a lot of what I know about people came out of that. I’m going to cut/past your post in my notes and address some of those instances for future Cannibal Essays.

– Sully (Thomas Sullivan)

Beautifully done, Sully, as usual…but it would be interesting (just for perspective) to see a similar piece sometime about someone lost on the inner streets of somewhere, gray walls, too much traffic, alleys and backwaters of civilization.

I love nature, as you know…I have my swamp here…but to add to your comments, you can’t write about life if you live out in the woods either…unless you’re Sully or Thoreau…all the characters (the most warped and intriguing, anyway) are scattered through the woods, valleys, and cities….

At least on the blading trail you are less likely to get mugged when perchance you meet…

Dave