The Sole Proprietor has always harbored a desire to buy a camper. The kind that fits on a truck body with a sleeping area over the cab and a dining/kitchen area in the back with a small table that can be folded down to make room for a second fold out bed.

The idea is to take a laptop with one of the wireless modems designed to connect to an ISP or, if you can't criss cross the country bouncing data back and forth without a satellite dish, a subscription to an ISP with a national network so you can connect pretty much wherever you can find a phone booth.

He would travel from city to city, town to town as the mood might strike, taking photographs and writing a journal like this only better focused, uploading the pages and graphics every day to maintain the site. Rather like building a book with photographs and a monologue, one page at a time.

The Sole Proprietor has a vision of sitting alone, lights low, whacking away at the laptop with the world spread out below, not writing a novel or some other magnum opus but a series of journals, observations from the road like Travels With Charlie only real time, every night.

He might develop a theme, follow a traveling group, a circus, if they still exist, or a racing team, cars, boats, horses, who cares? Gypsies traveling from faire to faire, setting up their tables and tents, every week in a new city or town.

There would have to be an agreement, of course, they wouldn't let him just poke about taking photographs at his pleasure. He'd have to make the pictures available for promotional purposes or produce something that they'd want, a book, a series of stories for the press, but these could be worked out. The Sole Proprietor doesn't know if the Web page itself would make it worth while for whomever to have him tagging along, but who knows? It's a new world. Things happen, particularly in fantasies. And the Web.

Sometimes the Sole Proprietor wonders about this particular fantasy. Traveling alone. Relating his story over the Web. He's a techno geek. He's doing this journal. Always alone. Why alone? He's single. He lives alone. He likes the ladies well enough, but he's never had a vision of a full time partner, the condition to which most of the human universe seems to aspire. He's good about doing exactly the wrong thing at the right time. Or the right thing at the wrong time all with impeccable timing. Dumb when he should be serious, serious when he should be dumb .

Still, it's Saturday. Washington has just been humiliated by Oregon. It's raining. Not bad, even with all of that.