In the space of twenty-four hours, my body, along with those of Jennifer, Clint, and Pat will be hurtling eastward at 75 miles per hour. I expect a full complement of fun and beauty along the way, and a marvelous chance to see old friends in the Big Apple. Nonetheless, our thoughts and wishes of good fortune will remain firmly ensconced here in Bloomington, particularly in a certain house in the western part of the county. Alas that we will not be here for Cletus’ arrival! Of course, we must grant that this fact may help Cletus see the good in the world unspoiled before gazing upon my tainted visage. A joke, of course. Good luck, Jim, Dani, and Cletus. Save a hug of two for us when we return.
Our trip, for those interested, will send us primarily into the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York, where we will be canoeing and backpacking to our hearts content. Any of y’all who went on Youth Caravan in the 80s might remember Saranac Lake. That’s pretty much where we’ll be. For the uninitiated, that’s mighty close to Lake Placid, where Smoking Man from the X-files rigged the US hockey team victory in the Olympics. We will then find our way to NYC. There, old friends and plenty of sightseeing abound, culminating in the nuptials of Todd and Shanti. But be forewarned, Indiana, methinks a stowaway from France will be in the van on the trip home…(We get back late on the 5th—Someone has a birthday the next day, so keep us in mind)
It looks like George Harrison's time with us is nearing its end. I hate the "favorite Beatle" question, but damn I love what he did. I have wet eyes just thinking about all the lovely and scorching guitar work he played. What a class act, as well. He will forever be at the top of my Artistic Roll Call. Raise a glass for George today. They don't make 'em like that anymore.
Note to Shari: I racked the beer to a secondary fermenter last night. In nine years of brewing, I have never had a batch at this stage look and smell so good. I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch, but….
Note to Amy and Sean: Rob Rowe was the original bass player for SK. I don’t know why he stopped playing for them, but Tommy sez that he and Pat went to an all-ages WHO tribute show and saw Jake playing in a band that did Quadrophenia or Sell Out in its entirety, or something like that. He blew their asses out, and the rest is history.
Had a grand time shaking the plaster with Phil, Clint, and Ned last night. Phil and Ned sweat enough to fill a swimming pool.
All right. Carry on. See you in two weeks.
Our trip, for those interested, will send us primarily into the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York, where we will be canoeing and backpacking to our hearts content. Any of y’all who went on Youth Caravan in the 80s might remember Saranac Lake. That’s pretty much where we’ll be. For the uninitiated, that’s mighty close to Lake Placid, where Smoking Man from the X-files rigged the US hockey team victory in the Olympics. We will then find our way to NYC. There, old friends and plenty of sightseeing abound, culminating in the nuptials of Todd and Shanti. But be forewarned, Indiana, methinks a stowaway from France will be in the van on the trip home…(We get back late on the 5th—Someone has a birthday the next day, so keep us in mind)
It looks like George Harrison's time with us is nearing its end. I hate the "favorite Beatle" question, but damn I love what he did. I have wet eyes just thinking about all the lovely and scorching guitar work he played. What a class act, as well. He will forever be at the top of my Artistic Roll Call. Raise a glass for George today. They don't make 'em like that anymore.
Note to Shari: I racked the beer to a secondary fermenter last night. In nine years of brewing, I have never had a batch at this stage look and smell so good. I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch, but….
Note to Amy and Sean: Rob Rowe was the original bass player for SK. I don’t know why he stopped playing for them, but Tommy sez that he and Pat went to an all-ages WHO tribute show and saw Jake playing in a band that did Quadrophenia or Sell Out in its entirety, or something like that. He blew their asses out, and the rest is history.
Had a grand time shaking the plaster with Phil, Clint, and Ned last night. Phil and Ned sweat enough to fill a swimming pool.
All right. Carry on. See you in two weeks.
