I continued working as a journalist to pay my bills, and one day I was assigned to interview Esther Torrego. She urged me to go abroad, as I was facing the draft right after the country had undergone a military putsch -not the best option for an anarchist with a Basque last name. She spoke of this guy Lasnik, who might teach me a couple of tricks, and said I should apply to a bunch of places in the US. I spent my remaining savings in the process, and got accepted in Kentucky. And Pittsburgh (a Fulbright visitor from there took pity on me). I taught (!?) Spanish for a while and attempted to organize a TA union (unsuccessfully), but saved enough to go to Connecticut. They must have had a bad yield, as they ended up accepting me in the last minute. No funding, no problem (gardening, refereeing when all else failed, duck hunting). I tried to learn my craft, more or less the way one learned to play the horn in Kansas City in the thirties. It was pretty neat to hang out wherever I could, watching, aside from The Man himself, the likes of Lasnik, Higgy, or Kayne play their jam sessions. With little to lose -the draft still looming- I joined a new program in Maryland. I'm sure they too were mistaken, but one's stuck with luck.