Life expectancy for American men is struggling back upwards toward pre-Covid levels. Right now it stands at 76 years, although that figure is not adjusted for factors like socioeconomic class, which matter pretty significantly.

Statistically that gives me maybe a dozen trips around the sun, more, of course, or less.

I don’t think I want to spend them all here in étrange fogbound stasis in the 1946 house, foreign, alien, unusual, unfamiliar, curious, distant, inhospitable.

Will the old gringo take his rolling road show down to Mexico in search of the rush all over again before checkout time?

Time will tell, in precisely spilled daily doses; don’t touch that

mando de distanica.