looking forward to NE China in Summer, 2019. I can wear polyester pants, a white polyester shirt with buttons undone from the bottom up and the shirt ends tied together at nipple line, exposing my gut, and carrying a very cold bottle of beer in the street, resting it on my belly, to cool it down, the way successful Chinese men of my age do on any hot day. I can do that. Maybe even buy a small singing bird in a cage to take home, or a cricket in a matchbox, to show my friends. And, late at night, put on pyjamas and pick up a tin and walk downtown to buy a meal of noodles and fish, put it in the tin, and walk home, stopping to smoke from time to time, and listen to the little cricket in my pocket. Maybe even join an impromptu gang of old men in similar pyjamas on some corner and talk about this and that in the hot night. Talk about gambling, and women, and crickets and bird song.