"You never know what will happen next" is actually true these days. For instance, I didn't know that Robert the Telepathic Gila Monster, who keeps me grounded in my self-imposed exile, would, last night, clamor to my door as agitated as I've ever seen him, though in an oddly optimistic way. "Doug's going to Bhutan!" he buzzed through the airways (he was referring to my altered-ego D.L., author of Lasken's Log at