The last time I was in a restaurant in a city I sat there and looked at all of these fancy people having fancy conversations. Everyone so dressed up. I couldn't understand what was happening. As much chatter as I heard it seemed that no one was listening to each other. Just a bunch of David Byrnes. I sat and looked at this single oyster on a plate that was staring at me. So I started to talk to it. We became very engaged. Like we were floating in space together having a deep conversation. The kind of conversation you have when you were a teenager. The kind of conversation that no one has anymore. I said, "I'm scared." The oyster responded with all sincerity, "I'm scared too." We then both laughed out loud hysterically. And we couldn't stop. Then the laughter turned to tears. And the tears turned into sobbing. The oyster said, "Dry your tears. Dry them like Desert Height. Use a mainline extension for water and go solar. It's gonna be alright." I looked at the oyster confused, but it made sense. It seemed like I had been struck by lighting. I threw cash down and left. And I drove. I drove all night to this place called Desert Heights. And I never left. Thank goodness for oysters. The stars are worth the price of admission.