It is a cozy evening in San Francisco. I’m organizing a few things on the computer for future trips. Luna is working on a big old bone, and Garry is wrestling online with a chatbox regarding an order from a company. It does feel like a typical Saturday evening for us. I guess it’s the gay agenda.
Agenda-wise, I’m ensuring I’ve booked flights for the Long Beach (June) and Seattle (July) softball tournaments. That Seattle one is becoming an annual event for me. And why not? It’s so easy to get around that town, the people are great, and the weather there in July is the best.
I will visit my mom for Memorial Day Weekend, so naturally, I’ve got to squeeze in a Broadway show(s). We scored tickets for Death Becomes Her and are trying to get a few more. Wish us luck. It’s a holiday weekend and Tony Season (the other Tony). I’m already thinking about the pizza, the bagels, and the dirty water hot dogs. My belly is ready.
On the local ball field, my Cubs are 6-1 on the season with another seven games left. It’s fun. We have a mix of new and returning players. Things are gelling nicely, and we’re hitting. The biggest surprise has been the weather. Usually, we have games to reschedule, but there have been zero rainouts. This is not the norm.
I can certainly go on about things that aren’t normal but all you would have to do is read the current events to get a face full of that. Chow for now.
The Beard and the Cap 
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