Occasional Holy Man, Indifferent Bassist, and Maladroit Luthier Who Offers Stray, Provocative, and Insouciant Thoughts about Religion, Archaeology, Human Foible, Surfing, and Interesting People. Breaking the Narrative Since 2001. Cultivez votre propre jardin. [Also, "alot" is not a word.]
Sunday, July 20, 2014
I Was At Episcopal Church Camp, Myself
All of the campers gathered together in a small cabin to watch indistinct, flickering images from a black and white TV with a thirteen inch screen. We could barely make out the images, but it was terrific, nevertheless.