What, the weekend?

Was very nice, actually.  Spent it in a Massachusetts lakeside camp where high-tech was a power outlet.  No internet, obviously: my rule of thumb on how the world was going was if they weren’t interrupting the Red Sox game on the radio, everything was fine.

Everything was fine.  And I’d forgotten how nice it is to hear a ball game on the radio.  Especially when you have no skin in the game, as it was.

Hell, I even drank a Budwiser and didn’t die from the shame of it.


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