“If I were free, beyond this cubicle, beyond these fences and stoplights and freeways, out where the ocean constantly, steadily, erodes and decays the man-made manifestations of pride and ego and power-games; if I had never bought into the ethic, the code, set up by the captors, gotten onboard the ‘debt-work-debt’ escalator; if I could even see beyond the next meal; maybe some bonus thrown my way in hopes I might show some teeth, some gratitude (though many would settle for dodging a turd); if the nights weren’t spent mostly anticipating the days; if I were free…

“…I’d be dropping in behind the peak, skittering, falling, setting my fins, powering… I’d be catching a glimpse of a waterfall rainbow… watching the field of diamonds bend and curve, see the sun through a thin, reaching, slapping hand of a wave as I break free. Free. If I were free, beyond this cubicle…”

My daughter, Drucilla Dence, walked to the Lincoln Park Zoo the other day, from her apartment (walking distance to work in the Hancock Tower). She said the trip was notable because nothing happened, no scary encounters with crazies, no near-misses in the crosswalks, and the day was lovely. She sent me some photos and said I had to respond. Okay. Thanks, Dru (and, no, I’ll not add this to the piece where you compared me to your cat, Mister Pugsley). Love, Dad.

And, look; maybe a lot of us would rather be somewhere else than working; I break free every once in a while. Tomorrow, maybe. Meanwhile…