Sometime the other morning I was shaving and the sun was coming up over San Diego. I had the Skatalites playing on my laptop. And I realized that my life resembled something out of a Wes Anderson film like The Royal Tenenbaums or The Life Aquatic.I had always thought these ensemble cast-driven films to be quirky but not similar to reality. But then I considered my own reality.
I am married to a person named Epp who speaks a language only 1 million people in the world can speak. I understand it too. My house is in Tartu. My office is in New York. I am in San Diego, listening to a long dead Jamaican dance group. She's in Key West at Ernest Hemingway's house with our two daughters. My folks are on Long Island with pumpkins and the dog. It's not odd, but it certainly takes time to explain.
What is oddest is that I did not plan it this way. It just sort of happened.
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