This book was written at a time in my life (having reached the mature age of 60) sitting at my PC located in the corner of my bedroom in my apartment overlooking 150 identical units. They in turn overlook, if not stare at my block of identical apartments located in a quiet outer suburb of Vung Tau in Vietnam.Whilst not an unpleasant place to live, with coconut trees, mature mahogany tree-lined streets (severely dam-aged in Typhoon Durian in December 2006) and manicured man-made gardens and lawns with totally unnecessary polished granite footpaths and gutters. The harbor is alive with the local fishing fleet, discharging its fresh catch ashore and then the waste into what were once pristine waters. The ocean beach fares no better, polluted with the flotsam and jetsam of the offshore oil industry, the lifeblood of Vietnam and her socialist partners.