As the cosmic serpent eventually eats his own tail, my old friend Matthew is making his way back to the Pacific Northwest after a decade-long stint on the East Coast. "I'm done with New York," he decided a few weeks ago. Then he and his woman started packing their life up into boxes. They pulled out of The City a few days ago. Because of cell phone technology, Matthew has been able to call me from the road and give me travel updates. Just now he called from just outside of Yellowstone: "I'm in a hotel parking lot in Wyoming. There are plastic bb's all over the ground. I think a bunch of seven year old's had a shootout here. Hey, didja see that moon last night?" Indeed, I saw that great white moon last night, brother.