I woke up this morning in need of a latte. Food too natch, something from the biscotti phylum, and one of those clichéd long walks on the beach. The complete fantasy package is a long walk on the beach with a latte and my dog. I’m wearing Birkenstock loafers and biodegradable hemp fiber shorts that run half on electricity, half on gas. The dog is a golden retriever named Dakota or maybe Aragorn. Yeah, Aragorn. And not my dog but a free, self-determining compan­ion animal. A newspaper called The Answer is blowing in the wind. . . . I look up and there she is. . . . . . . Etc.

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