The page is blank and staring at me! At two O clock this morning the thoughts were tightly woven into a compelling piece you'da been thrilled to read. Sadly, I chose to not go the route of divorce - waking my wife up to transcribe my brilliance for you. You just can't get good help anymore, one of the tragedies of our times! My brother tells me he found the last piece lacking without a musical link. I've got Santana's Abraxas playing softly as, I recall quite distinctly, part of that tightly woven dreampiece was Carlos' mystical sound track. I guess the hope was hearing it would elicit the thoughts if not the brilliance from my night writing. The rhythm is helping at least with the typing - brilliance, well, we'll see. I have incomprehensibly pair Santana with Stan Getz. That makes about as much sense as the ingredients in this mornings breakfast burrito. No indigestion yet but the morning is still young and the page is not yet screaming delete. It was a mixe