Breaking down

Getting dressed to go to the gym, I grabbed a pair of shorts out of the drawer.

They were thick, gray sturdy athletic shorts that I’ve had forever … and I looked down to notice they had holes in a place you don’t want to have holes.

So much for those shorts. They certainly didn’t owe me anything.

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Hidden on the ground

The sun, sky and setting combined to set the scene in that perfect, just-before-sunset kind of way.

Given a choice of going to the gym or walking outside, Suzi and I figured that since it was reasonably warm and there was at least a little light left, we’d hit the walking trail near our house.

We weren’t the only ones thinking the same thing, as we passed multiple fellow flashlight-carriers.

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Minimalist marketing

Shortly before Christmas, Suzi and I went to see the display at Old Sturbridge Village.

There are places you imagine being an obvious field trip for elementary school students — where I grew up, it was The Farmers’ Museum in Cooperstown — and this was that place for central and western Massachusetts … probably northern and central Connecticut, too.

As for me, even though I’ve received dozens of work emails from OSV over the years, I had never been.

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Thoughts at the end of the year

Genius that I am, I had tossed the card onto the one spot of the log where the flames couldn’t reach it.

As I watched the fire flicker on either side of it, I knew that even though it wasn’t the sort of thing I go for, the whole point of the exercise was that the card would burn.

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Message in the cold

The sensation of stepping out into the cold is like being shaken by the shoulders, or slapped in the face.

Heat has it own sensation, actually two of them. It can be the feeling of skin and limbs coming back to life, but it can also be like the lead blanket on the torso when getting X-rays at the dentist office.

Rain and snow produce an almost involuntary shrugging of the shoulders and dropping the head, as if being smaller means being harder to hit.

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A royal mystery

I got an interesting Facebook message from Renee, one of my longest-suffering and best friends, the other day.

“I had a dream last night that Prince Harry had retweeted one of your tweets and called it out for being so profound … wish I could remember what you tweeted.”

This does raise a couple questions — and no, not “Why do you guys communicate by Facebook Messenger when you could text?” … It’s just what we do, OK? — even beyond why she’s dreaming about me and Prince Harry.

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Cool stuff and a COVID reminder

There was a left, and a right, then another left and another right … or maybe it was a right and a left, followed by another right and left … or perhaps there were consecutive lefts or rights in there somewhere.

But after all the lefts and rights, and passing through what looked like a staff lounge — the whole building had a 1970s elementary school vibe to it — we arrived at our destination.

Snow Village.

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RIP, paddle

It was a short, high ball, arcing toward my left shoulder.

Perfect opportunity … set the feet … cock the elbow behind me … wait, wait … lots of space … go for the spot, not the line … time to let it go … nice and easy … be sure to get on top of it.

There it is … no return … nice easy winner. Now get ready to serve with a chance to win the game.

Hold on … I’m pretty sure the handle isn’t supposed to do that.

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Going ‘crazy’

From the time Suzi first told me about her idea, she said it was crazy.

Her birthday is at the end of January, and her idea is to see Adele in Las Vegas.

The crazy part isn’t the thought of seeing Adele — she has wanted to for years, and I certainly won’t object — or even the ticket prices. Yes, the ticket prices are crazy (although my father pointed out they’re not nearly as crazy as Super Bowl tickets), but if you’re going to do something like this, it’s in for a penny, in for many, many pounds.

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