Reflection While Migrating
“I don’t know which I detest more, cold bronze or cold concrete. God, I’m exhausted. I wonder if I’ll recognize anyone? What if no one recognizes me? I’ve gained a couple. I can’t wait to hear the teeny bopper’s, ‘I loved the feeling of the wind in my face,’ crap…. Just a few more miles to go.
‘I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn’t thrill me at all.’ So, la la la la la la la……
I miss Sinatra. Okay, so flying so high with some gal in the sky was Frank’s idea of nothing to do. Right -- but it’s better than flying alone. He should have asked me.
Anyhow, when he did fly, I doubt if he was alone. What I’ve never doubted was his interest in things avian. He was always after tail -- after chicks. Mind you, I don’t think less of him for it. He liked variety, and so do I. I like to play the field.
Come to think of it, I’d rather eat the field.”