Man, I love it when a plan comes together. I have always maintained I deserve a vacation. As a matter of fact, I really shouldn’t work, I’m much too valuable to humanity at large to be wasting my time toiling away unappreciated. That indisputable fact aside, I’m embarking on yet another of my patented three-day weekend trips one week from today. First, a big Irish fest in Baltimore complete with several of my fave bands, then a weekend on the Chester river down on the Eastern Shore and the possibility of cruising up to Philly yet again – if I have any energy left – to see the Phils.
Can he do it? Can the road warrior survive? I don’t know, I’ve done worse but I was a younger man then. Hell, this weekend is another mad dash to the Philly environs to see a famine ship at Penn’s Landing and maybe catch an old fashioned burlesque show at the old burlesque club. That would be nifty cool.
Of course, the damned heat has to come just when outside activity ramps up. Bloody typical.