Dammit Ralph,

Dammit Ralph,

My passport’s expired again. I haven’t. Not yet. Put it on the scroll of To-Do’s. Expatriation is making its way up Our bucket list. We require a bigger and more grown-up place to think than this. For a few generations now We’ve been watching these Titans of Denial dig holes for their free and fat heads. You know I’d never shove myself into anyone else’s words but I like longer vacations than this, Ralph, or at least to be relieved of steering for a spell. We deal in bigger Gobs Of Time than that. This country’s rotting institutions still shiv its children with their minigods and microbrands and some paltry, ass-backwards definition of “great.” They print lies and use them as currency. Trust no one is what they preach. Now “freedom” and “faith” are on the shrinking block again so I borrowed the pen, for now, to get a message through while I don’t have to worry about doing all the driving too. This kid don’t know what he’s doing with words yet but you should see him on anything with wheels. The Wheel’s in good hands, fast too, and you know, Ralph, how I like fast and how I feel about tubes.

Besides, there don’t seem to be too many around here these days with enough sense to know that it’s easier to tend the flame if you keep it above The High-Water Mark. The Moon always comes back around, Ralph, like a wheel. Tomorrow’s News has been in syndication for millennia now. You want to know what happens next?

I told you,
The Wheelman

P.S. — Douglas and I THANK YOU for All The Grapefruit!