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THE PUSH

Well, I spent a nice leisurely weekend doing absolutely nothing. That's not exactly true, but I managed to stay away from the office for the whole weekend. And amazingly enough... the world didn't come to an end. In fact, I don't believe that anyone noticed that I was gone. Now that says something that should be tickling my ego. My crap-o-meter, if you will. Baird.... you're full of crap most of the time and a whole lot less important that you think that you are. Yeah... that's it.

First of all, my friend Tom and I went shopping for a Troy Built tiller for his new rural adventures. No luck. Then we went to shop for garden stuff. No luck. Then we went and ate a three hour lunch that involved a great deal of fermented beverages and lengthy explanations of why those high school girls were fools for not letting us have our way with them back in 1964. That was an analysis of why there was no luck in our dim past. Then we drove back to his casa and did the cooking for our combined broods of children and women who have permitted at least limited foolishness in the past. I must confess that Mr. Leete is a very good outdoor chef as well as an indoor foodstuff manager. The problem on Saturday evening was that it was raining to beat the band, but we had consumed sufficient grape for it not to matter. I spent twenty minutes finding a umberella then we went out to the grill and threw the thing on the patio because we needed the extra hand to hold on to the steak platters. Hey... we are drunks with priorities! I can't remember what we ate or when, but I have a distinct recollection of enjoying the meal.

What a life.

Bob