Dru, Steinbeck and the Book of Deer

Dear Juliet Bit worried about you, so I'll be brief... If there's something really worrying you, you can turn to me. You did ask me about Scott Allie, remember? Don't worry, the shoe won't drop. Being an Asperger, I have the ability to face and deal with terrible facts; and being an author, I can concisely suggest what you may wish to do. I just don't know exactly what the problems (if any) are? I can't just say "Alakazam!" and fix everything, but I can try. And I think that earlier article of mine ( Sciatica ) was definitely on the right lines: don't wait until it's too late! Okay, that's all I'm going to say. You know how to find me. And you do mean the world to me. Love, James

Dear Juliet No, I don't think I've told you this story... It's a bit like being a child of narcissists, too. I've always had low self-esteem and tend to feel that if I show my emotions I'll be shot at dawn. But I think it's all right now. So, cast your mind back to January 2024. I'd just escaped death (or rather serious inconvenience) in the aptly named Death Valley. I'd had an enjoyable $300 taxi ride from Needles to Vegas, spent a fun evening with three nurses at the top of the Strat and got the early morning Delta flight back to LAX. You might even say I'd taken the last freedom moped out of Hellfire City ... LAX is a nightmare to navigate ( hopefully the new Metro link has improved things , but it wasn't there then), but after I'd groped my way to the Virgin Atlantic terminal, all I had to do was stay there. And once you're there, you shouldn't really leave. And indeed, all my traveller's instincts told me firmly to stay put u...