Robert Altman once wrote a song called “I’m Swimming Through The Ashes Of The Bridges I’ve Burned.” Never heard it. Not “Boulevard Of Broken Dreams,” which I know my kid is fond of. I’m in an airport and thinking there should be a Travelator Of Tattered Hope and a Business Lounge Of Bruised Love. Another airplane went down, somewhere in the world, this morning. The world isn’t quite holding it’s breath, yet, but there’s a chill coming off the mountains. I’m flying out of a sleepy old place and back to the world and the sun. Travelator To Tomorrow. Doesn’t even matter that, in the words of another song, tomorrow is just a future yesterday.