110412 #copperhead I didn't want to take the canoe. It doesn't even have air conditioning. It's not an automatic. I'm pretty sure it's a stick. And *I don't know how to drive stick.* I never learned because I never had to. How fucked up is that? I never learned because I never had to. Welcome to the Internet age. 081313 #copperhead What is it about sitting in the ass end of a canoe, that's sitting three quarters of the way on a gravel bar and one quarter of the way into a slowly swirling current of a vulture-guarded, frog-dotted, gnarly-rooted, snake-infested, long-forgotten elbow of an unimportant little ditch of a so-called river somewhere in between the most anonymous acres of crops and weeds and prickers and clods of turned-up earth with roots of fallen trees for homes for rabbits your uncle and your grandpa shot at long ago, that makes you want to stay completely still and listen/not listen as a dragonfly glides by atop another dragonfly, and the sound their tandem wings make fits the color of the sun so perfectly you almost go into an actual, honest-to-goodness trance?