We Change Your Channel

Lucinda is the sort of person who becomes a best friend at first sight. She is the least predictable person we know, part of her own training program to live life as completely as possible. We've been with her high up in the Himalayas and watched her effortlessly seduce a Polish soccer star who followed her to a lonely highway in Extremadura, where she experienced the kind of love story you read about but rarely live: "We walked for hours, the Pole and I, hoping for a lift, but hardly any cars passed by, and then it began to rain, that cold rain of the countryside. We'd been on our feet for hours, we were exhausted, so we ended up huddling underneath the guardrail, the metal fence which prevents cars from going off the edge of the road. We picked a place under the fence that wasn't too badly dented, and tried to sleep, soaking wet, talking about our futures. And in the morning after a fitful cold and dark nightmare, we walked one hundred yards around a bend, and there was a hotel, 30 euros a night, hot tea and chorizo, and we stood by the side of the highway looking at it, as if it was a joke from god." She is full of these sorts of treasures. She's developing real estate near Lake Winnebago, and we're hoping to talk her into giving us some prime gallery space where we can debut BadTV live, in person, 24-hour mad techno hyper-reality with energy drinks and bubbles floating on the ceilings. It would be nice to be a whale shark, splashing in a puddle, we say to her, and she shrugs and says maybe she'll make it happen.