Thermal Refugees

When we got to the question of dinner last night, I suggested a cool salad. Kristine, the brains in the household, suggested going out. Went to Madras Masala, underneath the Maynard parking structure. My vote for Ann Arbor Indian chow still goes to Raja Rani (Mysore Woodlands for take-out). Not bad, though, and given yesterday's heat, I would have gladly had PBJ sandwiches if I could eat them in air conditioning. The waiter, bless his heart, never let my ice water glass get empty. After dinner we browsed in Border's for a while. You know you're a geek when fears about all you're missing out on in life come upon you most strongly in bookstores.

After our dinner had settled, Kristine and I walked around the block for the first ice cream cone of summer. Those are occasional treats for us, as opposed to when I was growing up and our family went our for ice cream at least once a week. If my dad and I went to Meijer's and the temperature was over 60˚, we'd always get a cone. It's a wonder my sisters and I didn't need triple bypasses before we were 20.

We came home around 11, and the house was an oven after being shut up for three hours. I think I sweated more in the half hour we sat up before bed than I usually do when I jog. Which, by the way, I didn't do yesterday or today.

People Who Ought To Be Flogged (I may make this a running feature, so here's nominee #1)--People who sing loudly in public restrooms. Additional lashes for dancing at the urinal. I never would have guessed the Liberty Borders' was that inspiring.