It begins: "I tried to speak from the Havana of the mind and found myself an impossible refugee in the anachronistic wastelands of Passaic New Jersey, a place in a book where I have not been physically either. But that is precisely the matter because despite all of one's efforts it seems that one always writes this from where one is not, a place in the almost more than maybe, at a distance a glass thick from the here and definitely one duration in anticipation of the now. For convenience, let's pretend this is proper English. And yet, later on I might need to say what time it is in our program. By the way, did I forget to say good evening, dear listeners?"