For my love, 2004.

This year began in a pub on the Belle Ile en Mer in the presence of French folk and great beer. It will end tomorrow night here in Philadelphia with swirling fireworks and a list of study techniques. I am listening to Ry Cooder and Manuel Galban's Mambo Sinuendo.

I would like to think I am in France now. That this house I am sitting at (which is not mine) could be a foreign location. I take my coffee in the round bottom cups with a blue stripe around the edge. Just like the cup I drank cider out of on the island. I am not riding a bicycle; instead, I am running the old trail down by the Schuylkill River which I ran on all summer long in the intense heat - mostly at night when my core body temperature could remain below 120.

I would like to make some kind of resolution. Resolution? Resolve? Remit? Reconvene? Reconcile? Retaliate? I would like to hear yours first. Then I will tell you mine.

So long for now, from the field, this is Liberty reporting….