I have the bestest readers in the world. One of you guys — someone I’ve known since junior high school, who sometimes comments here as MarcG — read yesterday’s blog and got into his photo albums. Turns out Marc was one of the revelers up north a time or two. That balcony at the yacht club? He sent a picture:
And just so’s you can why all the girls thought Marc was just the cutest thing, even when he was a little overserved, here’s Himself:
Now he lives in Latvia. Take note, eastern European girls. And thanks for scanning your photos, Marc, so I didn’t have to.
Today was, shall we say, not a top-tenner. Out the driveway bright and early, arrived in Lansing at 8 a.m., only to discover the internet was out. You don’t know how much you use the internet until it’s not around anymore. Derek went off to work at home, and Ron and I sat around reading “limp iPads,” as they call those paper things with news printed on them, until it became clear the ‘net wasn’t coming back anytime soon. So we both went home, only I had to drive 100 miles back in the other direction. I was back in my kitchen by noon, and celebrated having evaded the I-96 sniper twice in one day by having a cup of leftover chili and putting my feet up to read the news. Ninety minutes later, I woke up. That hardly ever happens, but when it does, it’s unnerving. My last conscious thought was how good a nice hot cup of chili feels in your tummy on a chilly day. I think the sniper was the least dangerous thing on my commute today.
After that, I sent 400 emails, give or take. If you got one, rest assured I gave it my full attention.
So, today? It’s the big day. Let’s make this a what-happened-at-your-polling-place thread. (Of course, pipe up if Llewd’s scrotum turns up.) I hit my absolute limit yesterday, and after one cycle through the NPR headlines, opted for “Birth of the Cool” on the drive. Played it twice. Great album.