Not sure how, where to begin, if this counts as beginning. Back in the Homeland for four days now. Maybe five. Staying as secluded as possible without actually starving. (Publix a 25 minute drive, approx. the size of an entire city block squared, cherry pie, mildly burnt: $5.99, and so many cleaning products!) Batman? Really? Twelve dead? Okay. That’s how we do in these parts. Home of the free and whatnot. Been staying up late watching Iron Chef America, Pawnshop Wars, that show about Kardashians. Does the food constructed by Iron Chef Americans bear the same relation to the food Americans actually eat as our image of ourselves (…whatnot…) relates to our actual (ahem) selves? And that Bruce Jenner sure is loopy! Peach pie from Murray’s up the road costs twice as much, tastes at least 28 percent better. And the crust isn’t burnt. This time of year, even the Publix peaches are delicious, dripping and sweet. Exciting new show premiering soon about people who survive (survive? thrive!) by bidding on abandoned luggage at airport auctions. Bottomfeeder capitalism all the rage. On CNN they talk about Obama. Who? Rom-something. Surveillance blimp hovers in the sky, sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, always up there, spying on the sharks. Only the hermit crabs can hide. My first day in Ramallah last month, still dumb with jetlag, I thought for a moment that the local surveillance blimp was a parachutist, tumbling in. Our blimps here look more like blimps. Overdetermined classic cartoon dirigible shape. Don’t want to alarm the locals: Cuban air invasion. Or the Iranians again! Can’t they just leave us alone?