Wherever You Go, There They Are

John Kabat-Zinn needs to write a sequel.

While enjoying a slice of pizza outside on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon at the pedestrian mall in downtown Charlottesville, a man in a kilt appeared, set up a donation box, and began to play the bagpipes. My immediate thought was, “Why are you Scottish?” Which really meant, “Why are you here in Virginia playing the bagpipes while I’m trying to eat?” Afte…