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I've always had itchy feet. I think my parents let me read too much as a kid, and as a consequence I filled my head with grand ideas of what was out there... for the past 8 or 9 years, I've been spending all my dimes on the riotous living of finding out if what is over the next hill really is a bells and whistles camel race. So far, I haven't been disappointed.

In 2006 I even borrowed some dimes (and a lot of time) and set off on a whirlwind around-the-world-in-90-days trip that gave me a lot of hours to ponder the inside of a jet plane and a lot more to marvel at all the camel races this world has to offer. Ponteuf the world travelling armadillo saw it all, and I chronicled it at http://ponteuf.typepad.com

Now all that childhood reading has come back to haunt me again, and I've moved from Los Angeles to Nashville, a move that just *feels* right in the face of all logic. Seems like the South has had a hand in producing an awful lot of oddball American writers, so I'm hoping it might rub off on me as I drink sweet tea with Ponteuf on my new front porch. Of course, it might rub off on him...