on 11th between Marshall and Northrop
At the end of the TBA Fest, my family and I are moving to Mostlandia where an upward tick in the Love and Friendship index provides energy to power the country, where bureaucracy is playfully embraced (by M.O.S.T. and apparently ignored happily by many outside Topophilia), where there is no uncertainty—all your questions are answered by the Department of Questionables, and you can find out What To Say in any circumstance from the Department of What To Say—and any notion or plan your wacky brain can conceive receives a nearly instant and hearty approval by the Department of Approvals. My son Oskar sought approval for a story he is writing and received the approval slip, stamped “SWEET AWESOME” in just a few minutes.
Fortunately for us, when we stopped in yesterday afternoon, the Department of Received Citizens was open (the various departments and bureaus which include a Kissing Booth and High Fives! are open only at random intervals, on no apparent schedule…delightfully maddening until you can’t get bacon ice cream when you want it). We have applied for passports at the Department of Received citizens, filling out paperwork that asked us about our dreams, our skills (facility with double dutch, cartography, and sixth sense abilities like premonitions, ESP, telekinesis, and more). In two lengthy forms, we had to declare all ideas on our person at the time of entry, to list our nicknames, draw a map, and more. We’re hoping to get approval for citizenship today and pick up our passports.
“So long, it’s been good to know ya.” (Or “So long and thanks for all the fish.”) Hope you’ll come visit us in Mostlandia.
Farewell to All: Moving to Mostlandia