The issue of National Geographic sitting on my desk is wrapped in brown paper, like a dirty magazine except not so dirty that it’s unwilling to print its name. A dirty magazine that is only dirty enough to give an 11 year-old a boner and only every 5th issue detailing the ever dwindling world of the shirtless savage.

Orión is from Africa this week. I say “this week” because he is not from Africa 20 years ago. Though he is every so slightly from Africa a blip on the radar more recently than I am from Africa, which I am. I don’t like to brag about my ancestors, though, and neither does Orión.