By the time you read this I will have driven five hours north to visit friends in South Dakota. We’ve been waiting for all the omens to bode well and finally they do: nothing on the schedule for the next three days, good weather forecast, and the price of gas is down. All of which says, go. I like to drive and have just rehabilitated my ten-year old Toyota, so I’m looking forward to this trip. It’ll be three days of good music and good conversation with people I know well.

And, gulp, I think I’ll take the whole weekend off, no writing. I can’t quite believe I’m saying this, addicted as I am to the pen, but I’m brave. I’ll try. Yes, yes, I admit that there will be a small notebook in my old blue paisley duffel bag, and the voice recorder on the phone will serve for those moments when I cannot write without breaking the law or my bones. Writing and steering are, or should be, incompatible, mutually exclusive, verboten. Worse than texting. So the drive just might cleanse my brain enough to avoid any dangerous withdrawal. I’ll let you know when I get back. Have a safe Halloween, set the clocks back if you’re in the US and write on. Carry the flag for me, huh?