Eavesdropping on

university grads

in the next

National Lakeshore

campground site,

the very best

campground in the

entire state accord-

ing to those

who gathered at the

dump site to fill

up on fresh

water, he heard them

say that some

particular

grad school student

from back in the

day, who was

an absolute genius,

first in his class

fellow

of whom everyone,

including them of

course, was

jealous, just bombed out

on life, two, three

marriages

maybe more. The

National Lakeshore

campers who

didn’t bother with state

parks then turned

their attention

to religion, at which

point, he tuned out

and turned

up the sound on the

IPR Interlochen

classical

music station and

listened to a

particularly

sweet, little piece by

the French Impress-

ionist

Claude Debussy

while sipping a par-

ticularly

dry, light, fruity

little Pinot

Gris

and watching embers 

burn down in

the pit

after he had cleaned out

wet, soggy cigarette

butts,

charred, partially melted

styrofoam cups and

beer cans.