P. O. Box 1980

While on a twelve-week lecture tour in the Midwest, I found myself in a motel, one long weekend, in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I'd been living, and driving, through subzero weather day after day. Prospect and problem: four free days ahead, a few spare dollars and no friends in the vicinity. Outside, it was a brisk twenty-seven degrees below zero. Inside, it was hot and stuffy, and the only channel on the TV set had more snow than the surrounding landscape.