Answering the call of the north, you find yourself driving up I-75 on a cool day….clear day…. dry day….during the middle of the day. No traffic tie-ups. No orange cones. Just clear sailing…. smooth sailing….it-may-never-be-this-good-again sailing. You find yourself doing a little top-of-the-head calculating. If you maintain your present pace….don’t stop for gas….don’t stop for coffee….and hit the traffic lights in Grayling just right, you can eclipse your personal-best time to Elk Rapids by at least 45 seconds. Maybe even a minute. Just think, three hours and 24 minutes portal to portal. 

Seven short days ago, exhilarated but spent after a vigorous morning of Palm-Sundaying with the likes of you, your children and your children’s children, I went home for a little R and R. I went alone, given that the trophy wife I married over 37 years ago was attending a shower. The refrigerator yielded a few leftovers and the microwave rendered them edible, so I parked both food and body in front of the telly to watch the Pistons do battle with the Pacers. 

I don’t know why everybody crams into the kitchen. But every time we throw a party or host a family gathering, that’s where people seem to end up. So last year, when we bought in Bloomfield, we got ourselves the biggest kitchen we have ever had. Not so it can hold all the food, but so it can hold all the people. Apparently, we are not alone.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess who dearly loved to play golf. She was an honorable young lady who meticulously followed the rules of the game. If she hit the ball out of bounds, she always counted her penalty strokes, even though it made her very sad to do so.