“I Am A Living Museum”

On the train home from Vancouver British Columbian, I told a beautiful woman from Bristol England;

“I am a living museum!”

http://www.museumofvancouver.ca/exhibitions/exhibit/1960s-1970s-you-say-you-want-revolution

This declaration occurred just after we pulled out of the Amtrak station and after we crossed a river with three bridges. Tracy had sat down next to me at the small table in the Bistro car. We consumed our food in a unconformortalbe silence. We were strangers on a train.

An hour later, you could not shut us up. We were seated in separate cars next to someone. We fled to any empty car where the conductor sat alone at a table working on his papers. I begged him to let us sit in this car and chat because we just met. He gave us twenty minutes. An hour later we are seated at a table in the lounge car we alas found. I compare our conversation with…