Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

Scott told Tom he was going to take a trip to Kentucky. Scott was going to take a class, and actual for reals class. A culminating-in-an-exam kind of class. Scott asked Tom if he would like to come along on the trip to Kentucky and also become Bourbon certified.  "Sure," said Tom.  The point was to become a certified bourbon professional and a member in the oddly named "Stave and Thief Society." I looked up the Stave and Thief Society online to make sure Tom wasn't secretly looking to moonlight as a second story man. The Stave and Thief Society kind of sounds like a place you'd go to get your pocket picked by someone dressed like Steven Tyler.  But I digress. Tom passed the exam and is now a full-fledged member of the "Stave & Thief Society of Bourbon Professionals Scott and Tom set off on a Sunday afternoon, their flight arriving in Louisville KY in time for dinner. Ha ha. Turns out, almost nothing is open on Sunday evenings in Louisville, KY. They

The deck in question Just so you know, I'm now a sleuth. It all started when we moved into our new apartment. I sit at my work-from-home desk and. Well, the neighbors are just too intriguing to ignore. I watch them all day. There are an indeterminant number of boys who may or may not all share an apartment. The apartment has a huge deck. What goes on over there is far more interesting than Zoom calls I can tell you that much. Maybe I started paying attention when the one of them began working out one afternoon with a pink man-sized hula hoop. He is an excellent hula-hooper and I say this with the credibility of someone who was formerly extremely capable with a hoop. Or maybe my eye was caught by the skinny one with the doc Martins who scaled the wall and climbed onto the roof and sat up there reading a book. Probably Dostoevsky or Jack Kerouac or something someone who scales roofs to read hard covers would select. Also there's a full on full-sized stuffed polar bear inside in t

 For what is becoming an annual tradition, we went up to Matt and Helen's to celebrate a birthday and the 4th of July. Derek suggested that this year we do fireworks and initially I was very skeptical because of this graphic: Does the picture appear to be fiery poops or what? Anyway, Matt took matters into his own hands and instead of homebrewing our own fireworks, he went out an purchased a Can of Fireworks. A Can of Fireworks This Can had several notable features. One of them is the product name: "Living the Dream."  Another notable feature was one single wick sticking out of the top of the Can. A lone wick, just up there, hinting but really offering no clues as to the mystery of what would happen when lit.  Apparently earlier that day at the firework stand, Matt asked the guy how precisely to ignite the Can without blowing oneself up.  The guy said, "just light the wick." Matt said, "That's all? Just light this one (short-ass) wick?" The guy sai