Unfortunately I can’t say that we have much to report about Shanghai itself; thus our typical profound reflections on a place’s cultural customs, historic events, gastronomy, geopolitics, social idiosyncrasies, and venerable traditions falls tragically short in this case (I know, I know, that’s what keeps you coming back. I’m sorry.)
But we drank a bunch of whiskey at a night club / restaurant at The Bund with Yves, and then spent the night at his beautiful home in the suburbs of Shanghai. The details of the evening and morning would bore; how can one put such a loving friendship into mere words? Those finite organs of an infinite mind! (read: I’m not that good of a writer). The next morning he and his mom so graciously drove us to the airport, and just like that, we were on our way to Los Angeles and headed to the wedding of our wonderful friends (and Zurich hosts) Trevor and Julie.
Which brings us to the end of our story book adventure. Since our return, Franklin became deeply involved with a striped-pants-wearing “tribe” of people who frequent Burning Man festivals and last I heard from him was when he called me from a payphone in Barstow, CA., begging me to facilitate the shipment of an unspecified amount of Oxycontin from Manila.
Myself? Well… I’m still figuring that out… [slow fade to black, cue sound track and credits]