They always say the final sense to go is hearing, but touch lasts right 'til the end. Not over the whole body, though; I can't feel Dot's hand in mine, but this fucking diaper itches like blazes. I ... [+]
"So, you're happy, huh?" he says in disbelief. He asks me this question several times during our two-hour get-together, trying to understand how I could feel so much happier about my life than he does about his own. We live on opposite sides of the continent. We see each other two or three times a year, when I visit the Pacific Coast. We usually meet in San Clemente, a small town; he comes by bus from San Diego, and I take a rental car from L.A. He steps out of his bus wearing his backpack, and we drive to the pier by the ocean. Making our way across the railroad tracks—they're near the entra