To understand a wacko, you must be a wacko. WE are all sick puppies and there is no cure. Whether we live in Minn., N. J., Fla., or M. D., it makes no difference. When you are struck, you're struck. There is no cure. And to top it all off, this weekend I get to meet Bill, and I know then the seizures will commence and all common since will vanish.

Making payments for my Navesink was the hardest undetaking I had to endure.

Moby

Plowing the bottom in search of sanity in the blue waters of the Chesapeake Bay!