Dear Readers,
I apologize for my recent hiatus and I am glad to say that I should be back on a somewhat regular posting schedule. My absence was due to unexpected occurrences in my life that were outside of my control. As with everything, there is a perfectly good and logical explanation for my absence so please indulge me in a narrative of my last few weeks.
The story begins with my going jogging. It was well after dark and I did not notice the warning sign for “Construction Ahead” along the Esplanade. As a result, I found myself tripping and falling down a storm drain. I survived only because the recent wet weather filled the drain with water that broke my fall. Unfortunately, however, the torrents of water swept me far out into Boston Harbor.
Once I surfaced, I took stock of my situation and saw the light of a fast approaching ship. Luckily, the water was calm that evening so someone on the ship heard my cries of help. I was thrown a lifesaver and hauled onboard. The boat happened to be filled with Russian prisoners being exiled to Siberia. This was disconcerting as I didn’t have my parka with me. Fortunately, the boat stocked a few extra ones just in case they picked up stragglers and I was assigned one.
Upon our arrival to Siberia, we were assigned to rock-chipping duty. Being the only foreigner in the group, the other prisoners selected me King. This was a nice gesture, as it entitled me to an extra packet of airline peanuts for breakfast. Unfortunately, my nut allergy kicked in and I had to be sent for treatment by dog-sled to the nearest hospital, a hundred miles away.
While recuperating at the hospital, I ran into an undercover KGB agent. I convinced the guy that I was a CIA double-agent and I needed to get to the Kremlin to report to my superiors. He agreed to give me a lift to Moscow. Upon my arrival, I realized I had no money, so I put a cap on the ground and started tap-dancing in the Red Square. In a few hours, I had a stack of Rubles – enough for a hotel room and a train ticket to Warsaw. In Poland, I polkaed a fare to Vienna and in Austria, I waltzed to Paris. But in France, there were so many out of work ballet dancers that I could not make a Euro dancing in the Metro.
That’s when I took up basket weaving. I sold what I weaved and with the profits, purchased more bamboo and other building material. I continued the cycle of weaving, selling and buying until I had more building material than I needed. I went to the ocean shore and weaved the largest basket that I could, lined the bottom with tar, and purchased supplies for a long journey. I then weaved a sail that caught the northern trade winds and cruised to America. I landed at Plymouth Rock and hitchhiked back to Boston where I wrote the account that you’ve just read.
So please understand the reason for my absence. It won’t happen again -- Unless, of course, I find myself in Siberia.
