Sitting on the dock of the Nantucket Bay, watchin' the tide roll away –
And reading.... Joan McCullough, who is theoretically on vacation, but just can't help herself and feels compelled to write about this whole Espiritu Santo debacle. And is Joanie even greater when she's on vacation, or what?! Fun stuff on a pleasant July afternoon. After dodging death in a visual required landing in a fog that did not open up until after the altimeter passed under 100 feet, with the runway immediately below us, which meant put it down NOW in a little Cessna. No worries. So Portugal's problems are now in perspective, as I am here to enjoy them. At least as seen through Joan's invective-laden thoughts.
But this is just the sort of thing that brings about the fin de siecle.
On the anniversary of the assassination of someone that no one cared about, which caused WW1.