Our grand finale was Oklahoma City this Saturday. We witnessed a gigantic piece of metal fall off the roller coaster track and tumble fifty feet. The metal was not injured, but I bet the dirt underneath smarts a little. All the people were safe, and the band decided unanimously not to ride the rides that day.
Now I'm back home, recovering from a menage a trois de tennis (couldn't find a fourth for doubles, this is a family program). I forgot that I was wearing a collared shirt (mock me later), and have a bright red triangle of sun where I neglected to put sunscreen. This triangle looks vaguely like the brand the Beastmaster had on his hand. I wonder if that means I can talk to the ants in my kitchen now?
Nice marmot.
I've added a show on August 12th at Uncommon Ground in Chicago. Ow!
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