Ah, Brazil! My parents used to visit Brazil quite often, for business and for pleasure. Somewhere in the coastal interior of that vast country there is a plantation named after my family, a tribute from one of my late father's good friends. I went to school in England with the sons of Brazilian diplomats. (My goodness, how those chaps liked to party...!) And I once dated a Brazilian girl. I ponder these escapist memories asI sit poolside in California, roasting in the heat and sweat, not always appreciating as I should the singularity of my present circumstances.