Sunday

I'm thinking that today is Daddy's 99th birthday...Everyone should have a a piece of toast with some grape jelly in his honor!

Well, obviously I didn't get to this at Starbuck's this morning. By the time that the group broke up, I had to get going myself to make the 10 AM spin class at Gold's.

That was three straight days of cycling for me, a post-crash record. I've pretty well decided that I'm sticking with the spin class for the next couple of weeks to build the base. On the bike path Friday afternoon for an hour required a little more effort than expected. Arguably, I'm still in re-hab. The spin class is a good answer for the short term.

3 reports that she did a pre-Boston Marathon 5K this AM in Beantown, finishing on the same street as tomorrow's real deal. That's nice little memory.

The virus that grabbed my laptop Thursday took the IT guy a good two hours to remove on Friday. It had been embedded at some earlier date, and released itself on Thursday morning while I was at coffee. While my computer was turned off. Nasty stuff. My theory is that I picked it up off of Michelle Malkin's web site, where it had been implanted by some left-wing nut case. And not from those bikini pics of the SI body-paint models.

2 had a successful foo-foo evening for the high brow crowd at the museum on Friday night. I was there. In a suit. True, I am a contributor, but let's face it, the wine was complimentary.

Speaking of non-complimentary wine, the Saturday night a week ago that 2 and I dined at the country club in Muscatine included me buying a magnum-size bottle of Cabernet for our eight-person table. I thought that it was the same bar-served Cab that we had drunk by the glass before dinner. It never occurred to me to ask the price. A small mistake. The bill arrived by mail on Tuesday. The dinner was a bit pricey at $20 each for the pasta bar. The bottle of Cab came in at a cool $200 + tax. (I need to make it clear to the bartender that Roy and I do not operate on the same cash flow.)

My pal Pete fell (literally) prey to Rule 1 Of Cycling in a ugly crash last weekend caused by a mechanical failure with the chain. By himself, at low speed. Broken left arm, now in a cast. Broken right middle finger, now in a splint. Road rash on the left side of his face.

Pete's son Drew, former Augie All-Conference point guard now living in Charleston, SC, is on his way in a motor home to San Diego to begin a cross-country bicycle trip next week. I think that it's just a few guys with a modest plan. Blogs or Tweets to follow.

The count down to the real world is getting serious for 4. Graduation is now less than 30 days away.

More later today.

BCOT