Flagstaff, AZ—Despite the Philadelphia International Airport’s best efforts to the contrary, my traveling companion and longtime friend Wayne Kobylinski arrived to meet me in Albuquerque today, only about three and a half hours late. This meant our drive up to Flagstaff was much darker than it was originally intended to be, which gave us a chance to learn not only that one of my headlights is out, but that Arizona is less beautiful when you can’t see it.
I’ve known Wayne for almost twenty-six years, which makes him one of my oldest friends. He devoted several of those years to securing a PhD in English Literature, and I’m hoping he hasn’t figured out that the only reason I let him join me on this trip is that it’ll be an optimal opportunity to consume his brain. His encyclopedic knowledge of many, many subjects is also bound to come in handy. And I kind of like him, too.
Wayne is particularly fond of Irish modern poetry, so in honor of his arrival, I’ll sign off with the closest thing I could muster in the wee hours of the morning at a Motel 6 after five hours of driving. It’s a limerick I wrote about a movie I saw today called Iron Man:
There once was a defense contractor Who was deftly portrayed by an actor The guy from Less Than Zero Is now a super hero Who weighs more than sixty-five tractors