Aside from a teeny weenie enhancement of our cable service (for which we are now on hold for up to twenty-five minutes, listening to a light jazz jingle in a continuous loop while trying to remain calm), things are back to normal, and this is most assuredly NOT being typed with two thumbs on a smartphone.
Of course, our Fortnight For Freedom gig turned out to be a novena; that is, it only lasted nine days instead of fourteen before the lights went out. You have to wonder if there's a message there. But no matter, we've got one here, if you have nothing better to do than drive through the District of Columbia on the Fourth of July just to go to Mass. Ah, not just any Mass, you say. Fine, have at it. I'll be out in the western hinterlands with Sal's family, getting used to them getting used to me.What could go wrong?
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