"Home again, home again, jiggidy-jig! Gooood evening, J.F!"
In days of old, survival instinct was riding a horse you didn't think would last, over land you didn't think was friendly, drinking water you didn't know wouldn't kill you, just because you had to, elements be damned.
Compare with yesterday, when I drove a rental Kia through burning California hills, eating a double bacon cheeseburger I didn't know wouldn't cause incontinence, just because I had to get out of Las Vegas, cancelled flight be damned.
I'm a cowboy / On a steel-and-molded-fiberglass horse I ride...