The rusty Nash flew down the strip at a mind boggling 45 mph--flags flapping in the breeze--coming up through that strange part of the road, where long grass grew up out of the cracks in the turning lane......

Suddenly, through his clip-on sunglass, Mbo noticed a small figure slowly walking on the shoulder a few hundred yards ahead. He eased off the gas and gradually pulled off the road, his re-treads crunching and popping on the gravel shoulder. He opened the driver's side door, while the sweet strains of the theme from "A Summer Place" wafted out into the clear morning air. Mbo loosed his vocal cords "Caitrin--you shouldn't be walking out here all alone! Me and JL are headed up to Lucky's--need a lift?"

--Mbo