In Beatnik Paradiso, the streets are paved with ideas. Reality is fluid and is disproportionately affected by the weather.

That's the way it is....

It used to be about beaches... in the Bahamas, Cuba, Colombia, Venezuela.... all of the memories of warmer places and sunnier times. Things change rapidly and yet they don't seem to change at all. The ideas still race through. You catch some... and some get away.

Sometimes life is like a romance novel. Sometimes it's a mystery.

Sometimes it's like a movie... at least, I have experienced it and remember it like one. A movie written and directed by someone else. Luckily for me, each sequence of events seems to culminate in an apparent happy ending... most of the time. It just depends on when you hit that "pause" button.

At Epcot watching, listening and filming The Turtles with Sue and Roger and Bracha... or when Ted P. and Sue and I were cruising L.A. in search of the world's greatest burger. Did we find it? I don't know. Maybe that's a clue... or the party at Curtis Armstrong's house—Jim Keltner was there. He was a friend of Harry Nilsson... and everybody at the party was a fan of Harry's music.

...or when Sue and I went looking for Mark Volman's house in Westchester—we didn't find it... but that didn't matter because he wasn't home anyway. Maybe they're all clues.

We were driving to Friesenheim through Lahr in the Black Forest when my good friend, Dr. Wolfgang Lauer turned to me and said, "Wenn Engel reisen Lacht der Himmel."

I wondered what that meant. I think it's a clue.

Beatnik Paradiso can be anywhere. It is a state of mind and the realm of imagination. It has no visible nail marks... but tons of clues