In 2017, my son and I traveled to Cuba on assignment. The piece we worked on together will be online in the new year.
You go to Cuba long before you go to Cuba. You remember wanting to look like Orlando Bloom on his speedboat heading south of the Keys in the movie version of Miami Vice, your hair pinned-back against the wind under black sky at fifty knots, the U.S. like a dapple of moonlight behind you, somewhere years ago, Havana somewhere ahead. You remember reading Hemingway when you were nineteen and still young enough to be fooled by the lore surrounding his two decades as an ex-patriot in fishing villages, Hemingway as gun runner, rum smuggler, and operative for the CIA – When you were still young enough to believe that Papa was a rolling stone, instead of a fucking tourist, which is what all millionaires are.
Full piece coming soon.