State Street in Madison, Wisconsin

And I went stalking down State Street through the abating rain, only then the rain got real heavy. And I took refuge under an awning, outside the Triangle Market. And wait a while, and along comes a man, wire glasses, baldshaven head, designer nylon rainjacket. He's carrying a bronze urn, has a kryptonite bike lock shackled round his neck, more bronze hardware ancient and awkward shackled severally round his waist. And on right bicep, worn out over nylon, a big wide bronze armband. He looks like a Buddhist monk, like somebody from Foucault's Future.

"What time do you have?" He asks one of the girls dodging rain beneath the awning with me, and she tells him. And he asks the girl beside her, as if he's polling several time zones; and is very pleased (though earnest) when she gives him much the same time. Then he asks me, as if now comes our report from the Atlantic Standard Time Zone (old time zone wall clocks from around the world behind Dave Garroway on the Today show in its early days). But I won't be taken in, and so off he goes, bronze urn in crook of elbow.