--- H E R M A N   B E A V E R S

Ok.  So, I’ve never been to Idaho.  That doesn't 
mean that I don’t like
the way its shaped.  And I’ve been told that shape 
is half the battle.
I pick it up out of my son’s toy map.   Does it 
mean people in Boise, are seeing a UFO, a slightly 
bloodshot, brown and white vessel looking for folks 
to abduct?   Don’t mind my self-absorption here.   
I haven't paid my taxes yet and I worry that I 
missed something and won’t get what's coming to me. 
And I bet there’s somebody in Idaho, call him 
Josiah, he’s worried that I  won’t get what's 
coming to me too, though he can’t put it into 
words, its just a feeling that nags at him at the 
oddest times, like when he's sliding out of his 
truck or putting his toothbrush into the glass on 
the counter, when he’s admiring the way the light 
plays off the highlights in his wife's hair.   He 
wishes sometimes that she’d have that work done on 
her breasts, that she’d do it so he could show her 
his lack of interest was superficial, just a matter 
of the rods and cones of his eyes lacking the 
proper stimuli to fire in a sequence that ends with 
a hand on a thigh.   But this was about taxes 
wasn't it? And isn't Idaho the kind of place where 
a man like Josiah would look at me and figure I've 
gotten all I deserve—and at his expense?  Such 
unpleasantness!  I expect better from a shape of 
Idaho's distinctiveness.   There’s has to be a 
better place.   I must admit I’ve always had a soft 
spot in my heart for Colorado.  How can you go 
wrong in the U.S. with a state whose shape pays 
homage to the parallelogram, whose name starts with 
color and ends with so much ado.