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Sail before power. I don’t know why, I was born that way. Dogs before cats. Cats love me, in spite of my ambivalence. London before Paris. I don’t see how this could be a choice unless you were a school girl on holiday.

But I am easy going. I will jet ski with you down the Seine (and hold the cat). “Hey! Marcus! How’s it going?” You ask. “Living the Dream!” I reply with a cliché.

The difference, the humor for me, is I mean it. I am living a dream first coalesced in my mind as a child. Not until I was a teenager and read Bob Griffith’s book ‘Bluewater’ did the dream find a name. The call of the night sky, the call of the horizon now spoke in recognizable words, with verse and meter. Now, five and half decades into my life I am unbound from the mast, my ears are cleared, and I answer the sirens song. I don’t know why, I was born that way.

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