A mystery. An agenda. A tangible. My how time flys, it seen as if it was just yesterday that I was setting at a table in the Muse Cafe in the heat of a place called Phoenix, listening to soft jazz, speaking in murmers to friends across the table. We couldn't figure out how we had graduated from college and didn't know what to do noxt as the jobs we had stunk. So we all planned how we were going to get a better job every friday nite for the rest of our lives