Well, I ought to have begun this blog as my bus pulled out the station, but now we're already on the highway, no time to be nostalgic for my father's city of Hartford. I'm already passing the dump.
I'm writing you from a situation that couldn't be further from my Mozambican experience. I sit on a greyhound bus heading to Vermont with a notebook laptop plugged in accessing the bus' wireless system.
I went through all the brochures boasting Hartford's cultural wealth. I ran into a guy who I may have known at one point from days in the Center. He's on hard times, but didn't ask for help which I was expecting. He said it's expensive to live everywhere. I told him: 'not everywhere.' I spend 10 dollars a week on food .
Coming home, I hear talk about the economy's weakness. I lament that people are out of work. I'm still very cushioned from the slings and arrows of fortune. Poverty is of course a question of perspective. I hesitate to draw any comparisons between the 'hard times' here and those I've seen abroad. I hope I'll always remember that no matter how lost I feel in the future that there are those with much less.
Otherwise, home's all right. Hope you all are gearing up for the holidays and enjoying the love of family and friends as we move into the holiday season.
My wishes of health and serenity to you all.