Tuesday, July 29, 2008


It seems strange not to be on Speakeasy, not sleeping, eating, and sailing on her. I'm not testing lines or swabbing the deck. I'm not checking her oil or raising her "Don't Give Up The Ship" flag. I'm not on water and I don't see a different lighthouse every day. I'm home, although Speakeasy seems more like home than my historic condo building in Chicago.
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