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Musings on Havana

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Barry Zwick was onto something with his closing comments in “Flying the Fast Lane to Havana” (March 18): “I felt more important in their world than I did in my own.”

It leaves me thinking about life here in my native country, America, the land of laws. Our advanced, cerebral society shuns any hint of honest-to-goodness, gut-level spontaneity such as Zwick experienced.

If we take to the streets, it either means a riot is underway or it’s the Fourth of July or some other controlled, regulated event. Otherwise the streets are mostly parched and barren.

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As we scurry around in our cages called cars, we’ve entombed ourselves in a lifestyle of predictability and boredom.

Like the old saying, when you’re bored, you’re boring to be with.

TIMOTHY L. WAHL

Glendale

Zwick’s Havana experience included a “honey-haired waif with huge green eyes and a pouty mouth,” ’painted idols of huge-breasted, cigar-smoking” figurines and a culture worshiping “Orchun, the goddess of female pleasure.”

Does Bill Clinton’s travel agent know about this nirvana in Havana?

JIM BONORRIS

Los Angeles

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