As a teenage ragamuffin vagabond slumming through Europe (with high-school buddy then and co-author buddy now, Gene Openshaw), I’d pop in on relatives in Norway. It was a much needed depot for a bit of family warmth and some good food (notice the bulging bag Gene is toting). Thirty-five years later, Uncle Thor still meets me at the train station in his little town of Sandefjord. While I no longer need the free food, I still enjoy the dose of family warmth just as much.