|  | 
| INDIO SCHOOL BUS | 
      
 My
little ship’s bow was pointed towards one of my favorite
destinations.  It is a tropical lagoon enclosed by the steep, lush
hills of a full-climax jungle.  But more importantly, I was also
sailing towards a “state of mind.”  This idyllic bay would
provide me riches that are rarely savored in the low-grade mayhem
that we call The Modern World.  The treasures I was seeking were
Simplicity and Solitude.   
      
 For
twelve days and nights, I would bask in a hideaway so pristine that
it had never been violated by a siren or a car alarm.  There were
very few humans and most of my immediate neighbors were creatures who
lived in the Sea and the Sky.  Occasionally, a smiling local Indio
paddled past in a hand-carved dugout canoe.  The tranquility was so
visceral, that when a boat powered by an outboard motor passed by, it
was as jarring as a chain saw at a yoga retreat. 
