Yesterday morning 6-Year Old Daughter said, “Dad, I had a dream that I was in the Disney store with all my friends. You bought me a Tinkerbelle doll that could talk, but only the person who owned her could hear what she was saying. We brought her home and she sprinkled some pixie dust on me and we could both fly.” Isn’t that sweet?
I had a dream yesterday morning, too. I was in the house I grew up in in Cleveland. It was overrun with spiders whose bodies were about as big as your fist. I took a can of insecticide and sprayed it into their eyes. They writhed around in pain. Some of them died and others turned into human zombies. Lots and lots of really angry zombies. They chased me up the wooden stairs to the attic. I only had one can of insecticide and there were so many of them. Mrs. Wife was in the attic and I yelled, “Please help me!” Then I woke up. That was my dream. I wish I made that up.
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I was driving to the supermarket and the local college radio station played the Louis Armstrong classic What A Wonderful World as interpreted by The Ramones. Absolutely heartwarming.
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Again, I am lamenting the end of summer. On Saturday, we went down to Asbury Park. We walked the boardwalk, looked at the ocean and got some ice cream. 6-Year Old Daughter and I played 18 holes of miniature golf. I beat her 42-80. I was merciless. Those summer afternoons are numbered but autumn has its charms. All-day pots of hot coffee. Roast beef and mashed potatoes with gravy. A change of wardrobe. Football. Hut-hut.
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Joe Biden is a brilliant pick for VP. For all the evidence you’ll ever need, please take a minute to read David Brook’s op-ed piece that ran in the Friday New York Times. This was written on the eve of Obama’s announcement. Brooks is a conservative (although not a radical) so the fact that this level-headed argument for Biden comes from the “other camp” counts for plenty.