But first, a note on Truth: I adore it, almost as much as Beauty. Unfortunately, the narrative was so improved by a little embellishment that I quickly abandoned any attempt at a slavish accuracy and recorded my frequent flights of fancy. Even so, the basic narrative is true, and all the incidents described occurred, if in often blander form. And by the way, this general adherence to truth is motivated largely by a desire to keep my story straight rather than by religious scruples. According to highly placed authorities in The Methodist Church, I have already achieved Eternal Nether Resident status for the heresy alone, not to mention that other stuff.

Second, a note on advice: I received a great deal of it, both before and during the trip. Some of it I took, but in most cases, well...events conspired. For example, a Texas cousin recommended that I purchase a suitable car gun. But what kind of gun, I asked her, sensing that a blued and accurized .45, while just right for a Suburban, would be as inappropriate for my Saturn as a pearl-handled ladies handbag gun. Since the Saturn has neither power accessories nor a sunroof, we finally settled on an American-made .32 revolver, but alas, I got too busy to make this purchase and set out armed only with my rapier wit.

Finally, a note on underwear: Persons whose motivation for reading this narrative is an unnaturally acute interest in men's underwear will be disappointed that it does not live up to the standard set in my Amsterdam adventures. Those persons are advised to go directly to the entry for 25 June, but warned that the underwear encounter there described, the only mention of underwear in this account, is somewhat subdued since I was accompanied by a lesbian couple who I sensed failed to fully share my enthusiasm.