Don't get out much anymore

I joined some folks for dinner in Cambridge last night, a group of people I've known or know of via email groups and other electronic channels for a long time. You know how some people at gatherings will pass around pictures of their kids, grandkids, or vacations to exotic places? One dinner guest brought a stack of 1992 PC Magazines.
The ride into the city reminded me that I'm quite removed in time and space from life on the Pike. For one thing, and maybe it's just my age, but the jerks in heavy traffic don't bother me as much. That Acura that jumped ahead a few car lengths by staying extra long in the breakdown lane - good for you. I hope you got where you needed to be soon enough. Same goes for the big Chevy with the New York tags. I listened to music, watched the moon come up over Boston, dodged the cyclists of Cambridge, and arrived a half hour late. There were three tables for 10 in use. Two tables were full. I took the last seat at the third table.
The conversations meandered from search engine optimizations to swimming with dolphins to the maglev train in Shanghai that does 420 km/hr to so-and-so's lectures at nearby MIT to, well, you get the idea. No one, to my knowledge, was sneaking out to the bar to check on the Red Sox game. I didn't hear anyone specifically say that they were looking for a job, but, for these folks, they're always looking, even if they have work today.
Homeward, naturally, I got turned around a bit and wound up across the river into Boston. It was late and I wanted to get home and yet the liveliness of the city had an energy that was compelling.

It wasn't until I hit the darkened skies west of Framingham that I started to feel tired. I made it home safely and was asleep by midnight.