Monday, February 7, 2011

My Year With the Shining Prince: the beginning & a disclaimer

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of speculative memoir. Which probably means it is mostly fiction. The thoughts, ideas, stories, reflections, & recollections are solely my own or my own adaptations of hearsay/heresy. They do not necessarily reflect the opinions or policies of any employer, associate, colleague, subordinate, student, teacher, friend, or relative. Past or future. Thus it is written, thus shall it be so.
I. In the beginning...

I woke up one day (about a year ago) in South Florida in much the same way that Michael Westin did. Except that I wasn't (and still am not yet) a burned spy. Didn't have many (any) marketable (or even black marketable) skills or friends with guns and a list of illicit contacts. Which is why his version of dazed, trapped, and resentful was made into a hit TV show and mine never will be. [Unless of course this tale becomes a break-out hit and is optioned and I won't say no to that kind of action. Just don't cast Shia.] Also, I didn't find myself stuck in Miami. No such luck. The Palm Beaches are just not my kind of cultural wasteland. I would complain about the weather, the lack of snow and mountains and recognizable seasons (much as I complained when I lived int he desert), but as I will get to as this journey down memories back lanes and forgotten highways continues, I quickly found myself in a position to never be able to take advantage of the fact that it is currently in the upper 70s while the rest of the country is reeling between one snowpaclypse to the next snowmageddon. Frankly, I would still rather be back in Brooklyn. It took me almost 2 months to make it to the beach. The beach is one of the few redeeming aspects of this part of the world. What did I do instead? I took a job paying me almost nothing that called for unnecessarily long hours IN A REFRIGERATOR.

[and Finn is up from his nap, so I guess that's all for now.]

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