When I was very young and the urge to be someplace else was upon me I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch. When years described me as mature the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age I was assured that old age would calm my fever and now that I am fifty-eight perhaps senility will do the job.
Nothing has worked.
Four hoarse blasts of a ship’s whistle still raise the hair on my neck and set my feet to tapping. Travels with Charlie 1963