Somebody Save Me

Letters from the Front- 1

Back, despite a lack of popular demand. But this time, I have promised contact details for my new life in Oxford to impart amidst ramblings on the state of the universe. So to those I said goodbye to recently, hello again, and to the rest, idle pleasantries were always overrated anyway. Now let me find that address…

Oh, by the by. I have seen the light! And the light is good. Except a bit difficult on the eyes when you love her but have chosen darkness. So I got lambasted by Christian missionaries on my trans-Atlantic hopscotch. Met Jenny, lovely gal, on the first leg of the trip, Houston to Detroit, and she's on her way to Zambia where she works at a mission. Fair play, I like it, save the world. Although maybe less about God, more about food and healthcare, but, to each his own. And this was all fine. Very nice girl, very passionate about her work, we'll call it dice. But then, as the plane fills up for the second leg of the journey, the one involving London, this giant of a man appears next to me where I sit quietly in the middle of the plane in, quite possibly, the worst conceivable seat. No view, no aisle, and the only windows I could see to get a glimpse of the outside were strategically placed over what I like to call the wing. But back to the story. This football-playing behemoth (it was confirmed later) appears next to me and introduces himself as Reegis, only with a hard 'g,' not like the Reegis of Kathy Lee notoriety (not you Kathy Lee, the other one, the notorious one). And it's but the work of a moment to discover he is bound for deepest darkest Siberia on his own missionary trip. Coincidence? They think not. Try to imagine the delight these two fine specimens of humanity experienced when they had, in their words, cornered me, a devout non-believer. I'm sure if you're imagining it right you'll currently be experiencing raptures of euphoria. Tread carefully Davey. Tread… carefully. Ha. Yeah right. That didn't last long. First thing I blurted when this devout fellow next to me says he's from Shreveport: 'Oh yeah? I've been to the boats down there.' Woops. Faux-pas number one. And that was before my dislike of organized religion had surfaced. But it's all kosher. We're friends now. And worry not dear people, for they're both praying for me now.

For some unfathomable reason, that was the story I felt worthy of retelling of my first week here. Sheesh. Who can fathom? That's right. No one. So I'm off to Morocco next week, and it's gonna be brilliant. And don't worry, I'll spit at a camel just for you. More later from the land of the setting sun…

Ahh, found it. My address, for the duration of ever, or until the early termination of my employment, is:

39 Ferry Road
Oxford
OX3 0EU
England

The last bit's the important bit. Just get it that far, it's a small island, they'll find me.

Miss everyone, but just a little bit, and I'm ignoring it. And if you miss me, which at least one of you should, else you're all bloody liars, well don't worry. It's a small world after all. Just count to flip, then say flop, and I'll be there in five shakes of a left-handed pogo stick. Or I'll send you an email. What? Am I drunk? Of course I'm drunk. This is England. (It's kind of their thing)

Hugs all 'round, and kisses for the ladies.


Love you too,
Davey