Where's BB? and Oh, Towel-boy!

We were supposed to possibly maybe meet if everything worked out tonight (it was nearly certain) with our friend, BB. When we last saw him, he was heading into the sunset (okay, the sun was full in his face because it wasn't that late) with a huge, brand new Honda Valkyrie between his knees. It's a beautiful motorcycle and this was a day just meant for riding it, so I'm not surprised we haven't heard from him.

The plan was to meet him in Eldersburg. The C Clan was heading north to check out the flagship Merritt Athletic Club. Mrs. C has been very faithful about working out with a friend at a club near work at least twice a week. Like a converting smoker, she is certain that this course of action is imperative for me as well. So, we went. Nice joint. Three pools, a huge basketball court, two raquetball courts, dance and martial arts studios, and a plethora of devices that will help men and women at the onset of middle age re-discover muscles that are probably best left dormant.

Yeah. We're joining. Pookums wants to play some roundball. Mrs. C wants to humiliate me on the racquetball court. I just want to swim. Stroke, stroke, (kicking) stroke, stroke, gasp, breathe. What's that I hear? That's right. Absolutely nothing. Stroke, stroke, (kicking) stroke, stroke, gasp, breathe. Wet bliss.

Free Evening

What is this? I have nothing to do, nowhere to be, and no imminent plans. So I think I will sleep. Ahhh.

The Fever

Clifford, meet Little Boy Blue. It's catching folks, and that's a good thing. Today a co-worker took delivery of a 2003 Ford F-250 four-wheel drive pickup truck with a crew cab, a bed liner, and the two-tone Lariat package. How they can name an interior that sweet after a device used to fell a steer on the run is beyond me...but then, they ARE leather seats.

I'd like to think I've been a good influence. But my work here is not done. Another friend is still driving a Chevy pickup with a *gasp* gasoline engine. There's hope though. After admiring the new addition to the parking lot, he sent me an e-mail saying one of his favorite bumper stickers is "Real Trucks Rattle." That they do, my friend. They sure do.

Mrrland. I do believe I miss Florida.

Ah, Maryland. Home of the gentle, cleansing facial. The raindrops steadily fall. The grass is incredibly green. And my arms are covered by sleeves. It is difficult to reconcile this lovely spring weather with the warmth of a golf course only Friday. As wet as this is, the experience of feeding Cheez-Wiz to the fish at Alexander Springs on Saturday was wetter. And better.

Sunday morning, we packed our friend's car and began heading home around 8 a.m. We reached Ellicott City at midnight. Along the way we realized that our homecoming lacked a certain, shall we say, warmth? As we drove higher on the map, the mercury dropped successively lower in the thermometer. This was not unexpected. We knew we were being spoiled. But really, did it have to be in the 40's? I was swinging a golf club in balmy 80-degree weather. Even the water was 72 degrees when we went diving. Okay. That Corona was probably in the 50's or so on the way back to our lodgings. But that's as cool as it got. This is ri-frickin'-diculous.

Given the control I have over the matter, I can only say that it is a good time to work inside. Welcome home indeed. Brr.