It is endlessly appealing (this time) to think about a Via Nova that is theoretically obtainable in the medium term. Twenty thousand away, or less? as opposed to the six figure new-basecamp versions now out of reach.

But all of it is for the shrinking future, and therefore speculative and theoretical. That is the appeal.

So after all the inner shouting has stilled itself

We loop back 24 and 48 hours: “Just because you can’t lick ’em that doesn’t mean you have to join ’em”, and

the mundanity of moving in a straight line in the Regimen, which is within practical reach, starting with today.

“But … you could sell the useless land, and just buy the trailer!”

Shhh-shh-shh-shh. Maybe yes baby.

But it doesn’t matter, starting with today.

Today, I can eat better still, and I can walk, and I can make an appointment to get the secondary meds that lower BP, and I can take one step toward ridding myself of addiction.

Even though that’s so much less … fun.

So in addition to dutifully adhering to said regimen, and tweaking it perpetually, Sir, the other question is

What do you consider fun? and please answer with respect also to what is obtainable today–not boarding an airplane to gawk at cave art, not even going to concerts full of people who are shockingly old like me.

I have some notions.

I doubt you’ll like them, but I can’t afford to keep thinking about that.

Best case, I can afford a beautifully crafted regimen, and to reward myself for executing it faithfully by tracking down

the essence of

Cheap Fun.

That is an answer, dear Lumo, that is both far better and far worse than I expected. I am wryly amused.

The issue I have is that while 30 years ago Burning Man sounded very fun, today, knowing what I know about what it has become, it doesn’t sound fun at all.

But it’s a pointer.

Maybe instead of going to the festival, Fun will take some form of embodying the Burning Man; rising from his ashes.