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Packing light? Nah. I scrapped that as a goal long ago. When I’m getting ready for a get-away, I want everything with me that I could conceivably need, or want. Might have time to go for a run? Running shoes. Maybe a nice, long, scenic bike ride? Dri-fit shorts and T-shirts. Body-surfing? A swimsuit, obviously. Have tickets
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I have a bone to pick with a piece I saw a while back in the sports section of The New York Times — which I do read, by the way, even if it’s “failing.” It was called “Two New Breeds With Really Long Names” (Jan. 24, by The Associated Press) and it started this way: “Two new
Austria avalanche kills 3; Ski patrollers killed in France (Washington Post, January 13, 2019) At 24, NFL player retires after his 6th concussion: ‘My well-being is more important’ (Today, August 2, 2018) Teen Surf Star Loses Arm in Shark Attack (ABC News, November 3, 2003) Yes, skiing the Alps can be dangerous, I think we’d
I’m gonna be perfectly honest with you: I usually don’t give small dogs the time of day. I’m not a huge fan of their yappy tough-guy act, and it’s easier to just ignore them. Which is exactly what I’m thinking when Robby’s friends Rob and Charlotte show up at the Vermont house a week ago
“Unfortunately, it looks like your drooling, howling, underwear-sniffing, sock-eating angel of perfection is not, you know, especially smart.” — AJ Willingham, CNN Really? This is the author’s take-away from a study published in the so-called “scholarly” journal Learning & Behavior? I’d like to take issue with her statement for all sorts of reasons: 1.) It’s beyond patronizing; 2.) Why would
Beagle Man is an Instagram addict. We all know this. When he makes me pose for photos, at first I’m flattered. Then it dawns on me: He’s thinking post. True fact: After going to a football game a couple of weeks ago, during which he posted —of course — he and Matt were looking forward to a
Comments Off on How Do Thee Embarrass Me? Let Me Count the Ways*
When you run off down the block, and I have to do The Walk of Shame after you — trying to look like it’s no big deal, while I’ve got a leash in my hand and no dog attached to it. (That would be you, Ruckus.) When you’re playing fetch at the beach with some
Kemba, what the heck!!?? Last night around 10 I sent him out to the backyard for his goodnight pee. Fairly normal stuff. Sometimes he’ll prowl the property a bit, though there’s not a helluva lot to explore, since the downsize. Or he might grab a tennis ball to gnaw some holes into. I’ll usually see