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Musings on Havana

April 15, 2001

Barry Zwick was onto something with his closing comments in "Flying the Fast Lane to Havana" (March 18): "I felt more important in their world than I did in my own."

It leaves me thinking about life here in my native country, America, the land of laws. Our advanced, cerebral society shuns any hint of honest-to-goodness, gut-level spontaneity such as Zwick experienced.

If we take to the streets, it either means a riot is underway or it's the Fourth of July or some other controlled, regulated event. Otherwise the streets are mostly parched and barren.

As we scurry around in our cages called cars, we've entombed ourselves in a lifestyle of predictability and boredom.

Like the old saying, when you're bored, you're boring to be with.



Zwick's Havana experience included a "honey-haired waif with huge green eyes and a pouty mouth," 'painted idols of huge-breasted, cigar-smoking" figurines and a culture worshiping "Orchun, the goddess of female pleasure."

Does Bill Clinton's travel agent know about this nirvana in Havana?


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