Greg and Jeri Was quoting a pre-1959 song called "Poor Little RI"...smallest of the 48. Fewer potential rhymes with FIFTY than with EIGHT. Islanders occasionally get to the mainland by stowing away on a rum-runner or a dragger. The smell of the former is considerably better than that of the latter, but the risk of a fishing boat being searched by the sensitive nose of the Coast Guard is far less. There is one radio transmission tower here (about 150 yards from my house) which precludes receiving any outside stations. Frankly, news from the outside is of little interest here. However, word of this place has spread and it is changing like many other secret places in the world. [sigh!] Larry
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