St. Louis...

...another day, another city. I sort of like the travel -- there's anonymity in it, a sort of functionality, a Willie Lomanesque minimalism I've been enjoying, especially since my travels have very little to do with selling--I don't need anyone to commit cold hard cash to anything. Just a few hours.

The ravioli was breaded, and Mark McGwire still has a stretch of I-70 named after him....

A few more words about Trilby, which I read on the plane. On the cab ride from the airport to the hotel, which seemed to hit every red light imaginable, I kept leaning toward the door and reading a few extra paragraphs. Borges defined literary merit very simply: the best literary works are those which make you want to know what happens next. For me -- and I confess I'm hardly a representative type -- Trilby is such a book.