I usually title my notebooks: I named the 1994 notebook “This Kind of Bird Flies Backwards” after the Diane di Prima 1958 book. Flying through these five notebooks I read about happy dinners with friends and lots of work anxiety. I even read in one line only my first meeting with my companion of over 30 years hence, Henry. I’m astonished to read only that I met a guy on the bus while going to the Magic Castle. In later pages I read all about our dinners and walks and many happy moments. Thirty years later we can still do all these things but for the virus that keeps us from going anywhere.