Waiting for my ride… I kept getting the feeling that someone was watching me…I don’t know why I chose a confused hammerhead. I suspect a shark would just want to ask me for directions to the beach.

The bus was nice this morning… mostly awake people, you could almost see thoughts forming over their heads as they read a paper, or took in the surroundings. Sometimes, you can just see the gears moving when you look at certain folks. Outside the window, the sky was beautiful… nary a cloud, just a sharp, bright blue, only broken up by aircraft with a long, white vapor trail behind… a dividing line across the top of the inverted bowl of the stratosphere above.

Mongo, my inner caveman is trying to tell me something. He seems pretty set on getting information to me, but there’s a communications barrier. I wish he wouldn’t try to talk… he’s better at getting his ideas across with pictures… or is he? Maybe he drew the shark and jet.

Hmm.. sharks, jets. West Side Story? Is that what you’re trying to tell me, Mongo? I doubt it… he never was much for dancing hoodlums, or Rita Moreno… though everybody likes Leonard Bernstein, right?