I was in Poland in 1965. I was only in second grade but I got the dark humor of standing in a line so long there was no way to find out what it was for except to join in. In times when the going is decidedly rocky, humor gets to the point without a philosophical wallow and all the chest beating, or hand wringing, or spittle that attends political discourse. Thanks for telling it so finely.



Writer, walker, poet, educator. Commercial fisherman, builder, donut maker, organic grower. Boston, U. City, Maine, South Africa, Madrid.

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