The loon king

I promised a friend some time ago to edit a paper he has to present at a conference. I made the promise some time ago, but moving, boxes, peaches, and vineyards have rather distracted me from getting the job done. So, today I went in search of a quiet place where I wouldn't be diverted by squirrels. I found a branch of a public library nearby, and set up camp in a protected corner. The trouble is, I only had enough quarters to pay for just over an hour of parking, which got me half-way down page four. It takes almost as long to edit someone else's words as it does to write my own!

So, after an hour of concentrated, dedicated hard work, I got back into my little car, and tried to find my way back home. Thing is, while I wanted to take a scenic route, I don't know any routes yet, scenic or otherwise. Bil or JB have done the driving whenever I've gone anywhere, leaving me to glory in the view. Before I knew it, I found myself quite clear of town, driving along the lake. Not much longer after that, I happened to be in a lovely historic town, known for it's upper crust society and patronage of the arts. It's main street is lined with charming (ie. expensive) boutiques making it an enjoyable place for window shopping. And when the window happens to be of a bakery, sometimes you have to go in to sample the wares, right?

On the sidewalk, outside one of the very chic shops, stood a man in a white jumpsuit. It was Elvis. Or at least, a very good Elvis impersonator. He had the hair, the curled lip, the tilted hip and everything. He would have been absolutely perfect, if he had only kept his mouth closed, for when he spoke, he sounded like an extra on the set of Fargo.

Aren't people interesting?

(Fargo is in Minnesota, the state bird of which is the common loon)