Spent a devilishly delicious hour twixt dream and dawdle as I lay abed this morning, trying to come up with the name of any town in Connecticut besides Old Saybrook which I know as the home of Tantor, and failing; and alternately pondering the possible decline of my mental powers, grey matter turning charcoal as it were, before finally coming up with Bridgeport, an offering rather curious in that it came to mind before more familiar names like Hartford, New Haven, and Darien, which revealed themselves to me only upon examination of a map delivered by my inestimable friend Google; this after I had risen and downed my first Thursday cup of Wednesday coffee, thereby putting my mind at rest as to Connecticut municipalities, while still leaving unanswered questions of mental deterioration to march cheek by jowl with concerns that here in the year 2014 I am beginning to channel that mid nineteenth century master of the unfortunately attenuated elongated sentence, Nathaniel Hawthorne, as I write.
Posted on: Thu, 18 Sep 2014 13:01:27 +0000
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