Some years ago, your Blog was working on a Playboy shoot in St. Martin.
In a bar on the island, we met a beachcomber type guy that was selling maps of the island for two bucks a piece.
"You're from Playboy?" he asked.
"In Santa Monica?" he continued.
"I used to work for an ad agency in Santa Monica. I came here on a vacation a few years ago. After three weeks, I made a decision. Fuck it, I said. I wasn't going back. I gave my agency notice, and asked my landlord to sell off my furniture and send me a check."
"I drew up this map of the island and had a thousand copies printed."
"Now, I live in a shack on the beach and sell enough maps to keep me in food and rum."
"I have never been happier."
And that is why island life frightens and appeals to me.
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