When in doubt ride the Staten Island ferry and I do. It is free, and,this morning, it is foggy-- the sun is limp and failing. The mist seems a comfort zone, a cushion, a blanket. The Statute of Liberty was half shown on the way over, invisible on the return to Manhattan. The docks were clear--reality the ramps coming down like giant claws. So definite, so definite. I smelled no machinery or engines or sea and the foghorn seemed impersonable too--like a sleepy yawn. I tried to meditate. What was beneath the Statute of Liberty's gown? She must be hiding something other than her torch...perhaps a pack of cigs or a deck of cards...such is America on a bleak and cool morn. Love it or leave it and I'm still here.