Saturday, May 24, 2014
Don't ask me why, but when I looked at this tree Zorro came racing back. For three seasons 1957-1959, I watched, as Don Diego de la Vega attempted to save his part of the world. Yes, I had a cape, made from an old towel. Yes, I had a whip fashioned with a stick and a piece of thin rope. I remember. If I got it wet by dipping it in a bit of water, I could really make it snap and render a great sound. I 'rode' on a stunning white stead, dressed all in black, at least in my mind, and saved beautiful maidens one after the other. I jumped from picnic table to stairs nimbly, as my black-caped hero and could never be caught. Well, a least until I heard the cowbell, and it was time for supper. Hey, even a hero needs to eat. Growing up, I spent a lot of hours in fantasy worlds.
Some believe, from time to time, fantasy is still my thing.
I can't debate that.
I just leave the mark of Z!