TICKE MY FANCY

     “You see that building over there?”      A large dome emerged under a hazy skyline orange under the sinking sun.      The taxi driver turned back toward me, a mischievous glint in his eye, stubble glistening with sweat; it was easily ninety in the early evening.      I was glad to be enjoying a McFlurry with M & M’s.      He eyed me from the rearview, a small banner of the Saudi flag swinging beneath it, almost in tune with the Yanni track droning in high treble from some cheap speakers behind my doilied headrest.      “Mosque. Next to that, that’s where they have the beheadings.”      I didn’t reply but stared off toward the domed building that was now just off to the left of us, nestled between nondescript brownish buildings, which I later learned were government buildings.      To drive the point home, he elaborated. “The public executions. That’s where th...

Everywhere I’ve ever lived I’ve sought out one particular thing among others. Whether it was Riverside, California, Ukraine, Mission Viejo, New Orleans, or Sacramento, always this one particular thing. Always it is a quiet place in nature. A quiet place where I can be alone. I had many spots in Riverside. Most were established in childhood, some in adulthood, and all were some place quiet and far removed, often somewhere with some altitude, a sort of perch overlooking the din of the city. In Ukraine it was the forests and the banks of the river Protoka that cut through my small village or the great parks of Kyiv. In Mission Viejo, it was the empty early morning beach at Salt Creek or the Oso Creek trail that wound up through sunny green lawns and empty driveways. In New Orleans, I would amble around the busy and enticing streets of Uptown or the Irish Channel, Audobon Park, or The Fly overlooking the Mississippi River. I had a few remote spots to bark at the moon in City Park, with its...

Places on the fringe have always attracted me. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't pass on a high rise hotel over looking a squeaky clean beach at Waikiki! It's just that, there's something about the places on the fringe that exhilarate me; there's an edginess to the Mexico Cities, the Kievs, the Jakartas, and the Jeddahs. I'm enthralled with the places that instill in me a very real sense that I may not make it out of this place tomorrow.And don't get me wrong, this perspective has nothing to do with adventure in the conventional, Men's Journal sense. When I travel, I'm not looking to ride Elephants or Skydive, Zip-line or Jet Ski. But I don't mind eating bugs, drinking home made liquor in the home where it's made, or following a vague invitation down a dark alley. I get a thrill from suddenly realizing that I'm sitting in some halogen lit kitchen with people I barely know shooting that home-made liquor or drinking there crazy-ass Tea that gi...