Wish you were here

The other night my wife had a dream in which I was Superman and, at the request of the supreme Greek god Zeus, flew her to the country of Exxador. (Actually, I may have been charged by his Zeusship with saving the country -- at this moment I can't remember anything else about her dream except the words "Superman," "Zeus" and "Exxador".) Yes, that's cool I was Superman, but the real point here is that her sleep-self created an entirely new land with an entirely bitchin' name.

Since then, I have asked myself many questions like, "What do the citizens of Exxador look like?" and "What is their principle exxport?" "Do Exxadorians speak English?" and "Do they use the metric system?"

I have to admit that this newly discovered country fascinates me. And don't get me started on the people! Warm, friendly, hospitible. I can't get enough of their cuture, language and history -- I really want to know it all.

Someday Cara and I will go on a magical trip to this special place and see its many sites. When we do, I will be sure to send you a postcard.