Last weekend I had a scant few hours available between flying back into town and flying out of town for Caryn's wedding in Virginia and my luverly wife scheduled some massages for us. Awesome. The soul Sister (she's a nun) gave me a great massage, including a hot stone (river rock, I think) treatment, which was a wonderful new experience for me. The thing that really threw me, however, was the question she posed as she was inquiring about my lateness to the appointment. I told her I had just flown back from the west coast, where I've been quite frequently as of late. I layed there, my proverbial mouth hanging open with a bit of shocked surprise while I pondered this unexpected question: "Are you on some kind of quest?"