That winter, when the space shuttle Columbia was up in orbit, the newspaper published daily the times when it would cross the cold winter sky, and I would go outside in the cold evening and go over to the park and lay down and look for it to cross my path. And sure enough, when the newspaper said it would come, it did, and after many nights of doing this, I realized that the space shuttle wasn’t the only thing that would come and go in the thick black of night. There were many lights that criss crossed the void overhead, some brighter than others, some faster, and some as slow as watching Jimmy get ready for school. And those lights made me crazy with excitement, so excited that when I got home, my mind would be going a million miles per hour, and my thoughts would come out like a funnel of diarrhea that no one could stop.