In Animals, Drafts, Music on December 30, 2013 at 8:15 am

I still don’t know why this small wedge of the town goes by the name of Sebastopol – at least, to some of the old-timers such as my next-door neighbor who calls himself the Mayor of. The man is well into his nineties. Lives in the house in which he was born. Looks befuddled, at first glance. If you engage him in conversation – at the bakery, for example – he shows something close to total recall about the shops and the tradesmen that peopled this section of the territory over his lifespan.

But why Sebastopol? We were interrupted, the last time I asked.

The power cord to this new computer comes equipped with a small magnet. You feel the pull before the connection happens. Some research shows that migrating birds have biological adaptations sensitive to the earth’s magnetic lines. The old nesting grounds above Magnitogorsk may have been taken over by a steel complex though. What then? Good question.

Meanwhile, moving data from a six-year old computer platform to a recent one reveals unexpected gaps, as well as useless redundancies. Nothing so serious as to keep the fingers from moving across the keys, and words appearing as if by magic.

How ideas connect. Meaning, the ones with no obvious links. Why a place exerts a magnetic pull on one person and leaves another indifferent or annoyed. Why these characters assembled at the inn, or the local watering hole? What happens during their stay? How are they different when they leave?


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