Which is easier to do this year than in any previous years in my memory because it feels very little like a holiday for anyone.
"End of the day, factory whistle cries. Men walk through these gates with death in their eyes."
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
Which is easier to do this year than in any previous years in my memory because it feels very little like a holiday for anyone.
The season after summer arrived in New England, suddenly, over the latter part of last week. Not too hot, light breeze, no humidity, gloriou...
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