I wish I was in Casper, where the air floats above the mountains and the horizon plays tricks with your eyes

Yea, Casper, Wyo. That's where I wish I could be. Out on the prairie where the landscape is free of skyscrapers and traffic lights, and the highways allow high-speed runs through curving moutain roads. Where the threat of death is omnipresent at every hairpin turn.

I actually lived in Wyoming for three years and I was constantly stunned and amazed at the openness of nature's processes. It was like finding Mother Nature's changing room and getting to peek through a tiny hole while she undressed – sort of. Actually it was rugged, hard-scrabble country with vistas that could mesmerize and a sky that goes on forever. Beautiful!

But there wasn't much in the way of cultural activity in the town. Most of the teenagers hang out in one of the three parks (although I'm guessing there's probably a mall there by now). A lot of motorcycle wrecks, car crashes and deer poaching went on, as I recall. The highpoint of anyone's week was a good episode of "Batman."

Aaaargh! What the hell am I talking about here? I'm supposed to use this space to try and spread a little insight, share a little love, wisdom or, at the very least, humor. And instead I'm rambling off the beaten path and getting into sloppy nostalgia that means nothing whatsoever to anyone, including me. Sorry about that.

I'll try to do better next time, promise.