"The bluest skies you've ever seen are in Seattle..."

(What the hell was Perry Como thinking when he sang that???)

Looking in the MWBH Mail Room (okay, I had to expand!), I dug up this recollection from "Jay":

"Back in '79 I hitchhiked up there from LA to visit a couple of friends (that was my 'great manhood adventure,' as I knew that with RR's election such trips would soon be untenable with the settling in of 'the big chill.') I remember walking around that open air market and writing a post card under the Space Needle. My friend's apartment where I was staying was on Capital Hill, and as I waited for him to get off of work on the day of my arrival I was whistled at by some gay guys who lived in a house across the street. I always thought of them when the AIDS epidemic hit a few years later wondering how many of their young and vigorous lives fell pray to the ravages of that deadly pelage.

"Anyway, Happy New Year, and may you heart be filled with love and your hands be busy with our King's work, now and always. I don't know what you think of the various Marian prophecies, but my thoughts turn often to the promised 'Triumph of the Immaculate Heart.' This is nothing but a hunch, but I think that after this year that triumph will be plain to see."

Thanks, Jay. Another thing that's "plain to see" is that the "deadly pelage" to which you were referring was not whistling. Actually, I'm a little jealous, 'cuz nobody whistled at me while I was there, and I've been told over the years by a number of women that I have a very nice.... er, um, pair of eyes. Yeah, that's it.

Okay, anything else? I've got people to thank. First, the entire Lampkin family, especially my aunt Shirley and "the Doc," who made me feel so much at home, I'm convinced I actually have one out there. Then there's the clergy, staff, and people of Sacred Heart Parish in Bellevue, who received me so warmly when I was attending Mass there -- especially pastoral associate Dr Gretchen Gundrum, one of the finest teachers McNicholas High School ever had.

Then there are people like Mark Shea and his lovely family, who are not only entertaining, but fun to entertain. I look forward to them meeting my son Paul, in the event of our return this summer. (Hopefully on Southwest. Love their attitude!) And also Paul Thorpe, the guy who lives in the basement apartment, for introducing me to the local roots music scene.

Finally, the zydeco community of Seattle, who reminded me that the language of music and dance crosses all boundaries. My special thanks go out to Sean "The Gator" Donovan, Deanna Whetsell (who remembered me from Buffalo Jambalaya 2001, I have no idea why), our hostess for New Year's Eve, Julia Hecht, some guy identified only as "JEng7400@aol.com" whom I never got to meet -- and of course, any woman brave enough to let a guy from out of town dip them at the end of a dance (and I've never lost a gal yet). You go, grrls!!!

Did I miss anybody? Oh, the bus drivers of Seattle. You guys and gals keep that town moving. Keep it up!