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The beach house, south to Mexico, and a
rainbow victory, 1983
From this tiny spot on the edge of the earth I ventured out into the world, seeking adventures and trying to make Mother Earth a better place.

Beach house interior with thumb piano, Hank Williams,and an empty bottle of Cerveza Victoria from Nicaragua. Photos by Michael James from his forthcoming book, Michael Gaylord James’ Pictures from the Long Haul.
The “beach house” was my bachelor pad on the edge of the earth, a secluded hideaway crib with a close-to-nature vibe. In the early ’80s I lived in this space, situated near the end of the Loyola Avenue alley at the edge of the Great Lake Michigan. During my years there I did some growing up; by the end of the decade I had grown beyond it.
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