Support the No Sheep Left Behind ActIt was raining heavily during the time that I was on campus, so I didn't see a lot of people. The people I did see, however, were white - alumni, spouses, and kids. I met one black campus police officer.
This was my annual return to campus during Reunion weekend. At one point, I'd make a day of it, visiting with professors, hanging out in the coffee shops, nosing through favorite bookstores. Most of those professors have since retired, although I did get a chance to chat with my religion professor. The coffee shops that aren't Starbuck's are gone. And books. I'll read a book again someday, for sure.
"A celebration of summer, with its sweet flavor of juicy sun-kissed blueberries baked to perfection in a buttery crust." That sounds nice, but it shouldn't be a description for my morning coffee. Last week, in our New York office, some samples of the blueberry coffee showed up. Some people said it was good, but I kept walking. I like chili dogs and I like lima beans, but I'm not going to put them in my coffee.
And, last night, I stopped into a store for a newspaper. A young man at the other counter requested two strawberry cigars, and not bubble gum cigars, either.
Woody and Marian have returned for a short stay. They'll go to the Cape to visit with their new grandsons. They have doctors' appointments this week and next and plan to return to the Island to prepare for summer visitors.
If the Grateful Dead decide to get the band together and call to ask if you'd like to be their keyboard player, tell 'em you're busy.
Before long, we'll have our iPods surgically implanted, with a USB jack in our navels and the ear buds grafted onto our tympanic membranes. Until then, we get this.
Footnote: the Blogger spell-checker didn't recognize the word Starbuck's and offered this instead:
(Strabismus is the medical term for cross-eyed.)
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