Roving

"Jack, whenever there is no good video to watch, no good movie to see in the theatre, or no good book or magazine to read, I opt for Imaginary Visualization. I invent a setting in my mind and stay there for a while." "Sam, can you give me an example?" "It might be a calming teahouse in orbit around a roving gas giant planet, or something totally different."

On the 11th of December of 2021, I sat in the Christmas-decorated cafe with my oat milk latte. Hans the Netherlander rolled in with his wheelchair. He said that he had eggnog with rum at home, and then it was time for coffee. We talked about astronomy, our real shared interest. The James Webb Space Telescope is being prepared for launch in French Guiana. If successful, it could provide much better clarity of images of space objects. USA, EU, UAE, India, and PRC are all roving on or encircling Mars with their robots. Mars would be humanity's second planetary home, some would hope.

The scientists have already selected a target they want the roving robot to explore when it sets off in several days.

It's a sunny 26th of July of 2025, here on Lulu Island. As usual, I walk to, drink at, and snack at Tim Hortons café. In the morning there, I was talking to Gary the Cantonese. He knows that I lived in Japan before. He wants to visit. I recommended to him "one week in Tokyo and one week in Okinawa." We both agreed that what makes a place special is really the food. We both agreed that Japan is much like Thailand. We talked about World War II: In the Philippines, my mother was a little girl, to whom a Japanese soldier gave little toys like a toy chick and promised that he would marry her when she grew up upon his return. Gary talked about family members who had to swim across the river to get to another place in "Occupied Hong Kong." I didn't mention to him about my fantasies about the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere or "Dai Tōa Kyōeiken" in an alternative reality. Yesterday, I went to South Arm Park to view the forest. There was a colourful ice cream truck roving around, blaring the tune of "Music Box Dancer" by Frank Mills.

The Northern Territory was dear to us both, and the fever for a roving life had not yet worn off, but some time elapsed before we could quite make up our minds whether to try our fortunes in Port Darwin again or not.

His roving eyes never focused on anything specific.

It could complicate things for our little household. Particularly when Larry’s roving eye is factored in.

There was a tall, green-eyed young woman with steeply slanting Central European cheekbones who particularly caught his sexually abstinent but still roving eye.