Night. My parents' house. My sisters & I are kids again; we're in the garage, packing the car for our annual summer trip exploring the West.

But outside, loud raga-rock, worthy of Ravi Shankar. It's our neighbors the Lees--Adam, Crysta, Ariane & Juana are in a fair-booth on our driveway, playing electric guitar, bass, drums--and amplified sitar.

That sitar sound buzzes us up the Himalayas. Now we're in Shangri-La: woods and alpine meadows where people drive sheep. No, they're not shepherds--just driving sheep. Sheep are fleecy, baa-ing little all-terrain vehicles with pudgy wheels not hooves.

Like that lemon-yellow V-Double-Ewe.

Look, I just dream them.

A crowd leads us to a hall. Around it, deer-sized colts graze. Unicorns, not horses. It's Shangri-La.

Into the hall. Carved wood columns, butter lamps, tiers around a central dirt floor. Dim, flickering. Ugh, not the Gloom Room again! But it is: and the tier you're on decides what kind or degree of slave you'll be. I'm so sick of half-liberation! Buddha can be annoying.

The Priestess of Gloom casually shovels dirt and hits Robin Hood with a load. Robin, furious, grabs her shovel and with one mighty chop hacks out chunks of rock from the wall and throws a flinty barrage at her. She flees outside; near Fallentree Bridge she nearly slips headfirst into the canyon. Sits at last on a rock near the river, out of shovel range, praying. And cursing Robin. "No respect for authority!" Well, no. Why would we? She's the Priestess of Gloom!

A line of pilgrims enter Shangri-La, over the pass and down the mountainside. One's a girl I saw just before coming to Shangri-La--one of the Lee girls, our neighbors? But now she's wearing a negligee. My grampa plods up with Cindy N.

Hmm... they're all in matching white gauze robes, too sheer and revealing to be classical--more Maxfield Parrish kitsch. These tourists have a jetset, decadent feel--just dressing up as pilgrims, playing at the spiritual quest!

Still... we dance all evening. Pilgrims, tourists, carsheep, unicorns... and me. Toga party. In Shangri-La.

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