I can think of no better way to drive down the freeway than with a glass of wine in my cup-holder. A nice fully stocked bar to keep me sane on my journeys. I need all my bars, all the time, wherever I am. New York to the desert and everywhere in between, I need a specialized WiFi connection. I would need unlimited access to WiFi wherever I am. If I am going to be stuck in a rolling trashcan for hours and days, I fully expect some concessions. Now, I’m not saying this whole idea is out the window it still seems more appealing than say, getting bamboo shoots through my eyeballs while gargling Spam juice and listening to Polka Hits as performed by Hip Hop artists. Not to mention, my loved ones and I would potentially hurt each other if we were confined to a large tuna can on wheels for hours at a time. I hate driving in the rain or snow and at night heck I hate driving on clear days, for that matter. I cannot parallel park my bicycle, much less one of these behemoths. If I’m not tuned in to social media at least hourly, I go certifiably insane. I hate wearing anything that doesn’t involve fuzzy slippers. Especially with the weather we’ve been experiencing here … dismal, cold, and just enough snow to be annoying but not enough to be fun… it would be awesome to just pick up and go someplace warmer and sunny and much less work-y. Oh, the places we would go! The adventures we would have! The people we would meet! Just me, my loved ones, and the open road. My mind immediately wandered to joyous days on the highway, spent with my family and pets. My first thought was, “That is a great way to travel for those who are too lazy to pack.” My second thought was, “Don’t these stupid things have any speeds faster than 45 mph?” My third thought was, “I could totally get behind this way of traveling, because hey, I’m too lazy to pack.” You know the kind, the super-duper shiny house-on-wheels, towing the family car behind it. Her first New York appearance was in Daly’s Theater in 1895, as a fairy in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” After studying in Europe she appeared in London with a Shakespearean company in 1900, so inspiring Ellen Terry, herself a famous dancer, that she jumped to her feet as the dance ended and delivered an enthusiastic tribute to the younger dancer’s art.The other day, I was behind an RV on the freeway. Later she became a dancing teacher in her mother’s school. In childhood play she devised dances and taught them to playmates. Isadora Duncan, who was killed today in Nice, is claimed by San Francisco as one of its native daughters. Isadora Duncan Born at San Francisco in 1880 However, yesterday, Miss Duncan said that the report of the engagement was the result of a joke passed between her and Chanler at a dinner party. Only a few days ago a dispatch from Nice declared that Miss Duncan was engaged to Robert Chanler of New York. On another occasion she said he “was really too impossible.” Vessinin later committed suicide. This affair appeared to be the beginning of a separation and later in Paris she announced that she had sent her husband to Russia, saying that he had disturbed her in a Paris hotel. These attacks caused her to announce publicly that she would again depart from the United States and remain in Europe, adding that it was likely that she would return to Russia.Īt a party in New York on the eve of her sailing in 1923, a quarrel arose between her and Vessinin, which resulted in Miss Duncan receiving two black eyes. Her offerings were received with admiration in some circles, but from other quarters she was denounced. In 1922, accompanied by her youthful husband, Miss Duncan once more returned to the United States and gave a series of dances, in one of which she appeared on the stage wrapped in a red silk flag. Russia, which before her return to that country under soviet auspices, was described by her as the one place in the world where the artistic qualities inherent in a person could be expressed in their highest form, soon palled on her, and after having returned to Paris she said that even the Russian Bolshevist chieftains were “too bourgeois” for her. Difficulties arose, however, and she soon gave up the idea, but not before acquiring a 27-year-old Russia poet, Serge Vessinin, as a husband. In 1921 she went to Russia at what is said to have been the invitation of the soviet government to open and conduct a dancing school in Moscow.
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