As the new year yawns, stumbles and staggers to it's feet, I look back at a country that seemed so easy to leave. But saying goodbye got me so drunk that I wet the bed at 25. I'd say we're running out of reasons to always be leaving these homes we live in. And of course the year danced wildly out of control, and by the time the summer ends I'm in a shirt and tie again spending days making money, when I hate spending money, though I must admit that I do love good living. But that's more of a feeling these days. Home brewing and not needing to drive a car. Having time to waste, which never gets old when you've got none. Just knowing my way around and being able to leave town.