It was SUCH a shock to come back from a long weekend of crystal-clear waterfalls, dense timber forests and the star-filled night sky of Upper Peninsula Michigan to the sweltering hot and humid flatness of Northeast Indiana. “Oh, to eat fresh fish sandwiches, listen to public radio all night and bathe in the refreshing coldness of Lake Superior!” laments my inner mountain man.

Sometimes when I listen to certain music, images and scenes play out in my mind. It’s as if my brain is a music video or film generator which just needs feeding. I’ve heard some movies have been based on or inspired by such music (P.T. Anderson’s Magnolia, for example). Who knows what kind of cinematic masterpiece is lurking in my vast music collection. I should creat a playlist of such tracks, hole up somewhere with my iPod and write until I can’t any more.

I realized when the going gets tough, this tough eats soup. Soup seems to be the only thing I can think of eating when I feel sick, stressed or under duress. Soup is my moment of zen on a spoon; a warm bowl of yoga with croutons. If I were ever to study to become a chef, it would be to learn how to make soup. Favorites include chicken noodle with hot sauce, spicy thai vegetable with shrimp, minestra di pollo, and sherry tomato.