November 9

I am still full from yesterday.  I told my mother that I would be in constant contact with her over what remains of my 37th year, though I imagine I will get too caught up in my dolphin-riding quest to do so.

I have a preliminary plan for getting out to the ocean.  I placed a call to my college girlfriend, Tracey, to see if Captain Tom is still sailing.  “No,” she said.  “He came down with Old Prospector’s Syndrome seven years ago and has been trying to mine for gold in his refrigerator ever since.”

Mining for gold is a fruitless endeavor where we live, especially since the gold rush, and certainly in a fridge.  I told her so.  “I know,” she said.  “I’ve been trying to convince him for years.”  She did mention that his boat is still down at the marina, though, if I wished to use it.  I said yes.  Now I just have to figure out where the dolphins go.